Perfection
Johnson K's 13 in perfect effort is the headline right now on ESPN. Randy Johnson threw a perfect game. That means he retired all 27 batters in a regulation game. Not a single person reached base. It's only happened 16 other times in over 100 years of Major League Baseball. Johnson is 40.
I turned 44 yesterday. I've been memory driven the last few days. When I was 10 my world crashed. When I was 27 I sat in total amazment just watching my daughter sleep. When I was 30 I was sleeping alone on a Murphy bed in a rented 12 x 12 room. Last night I slept next to an angel.
The convergence of two entries led to this post: Joey asks "Do you keep walking past your door in the wall?" while Dave ponders "who am i?"
Joey, I'm glad all my doors don't lead to beautiful gardens. I would hate knowing what to expect. Usually it's only later that I even realize I stepped through a green door. The 12 tequilias in the FloraBama lay behind a crab apple green door. I found the angelic Canadian behind a polished teal door in a college dorm room.
And Dave, here's some completely unsolicited advice: the hell with growing up or decisions. Mid 20s with eight years of management experience? I say shut that door! You've got a funhouse of doors ahead of you. When you pull open a door and it doesn't fulfill you...keep looking. When the last door sqeeks shut our life will be defined by what and who we've created, nurtured, and loved.
In the middle of this post a small child woke up crying. She was dreaming that she'd lost her book. My small child; daughter of an angel. If my life adds up to nothing more than giving her the brightest, happiest, safest possible start to life than I'll know I took the perfect green door.
