SJ, my younger son is no longer 9. He has said goodbye to single digits. And then he was 10.
It Feels Momentous
Not momentous in a way where everything is radically different. He’s not going to high school, learning how to drive, having his first beer, moving out of the house, starting a job, or getting married.
In a few days, we, the citizens of the United States, will be picking a president. I’ve made the decision not to support any of the presidential candidates. I’ll write in a candidate. Don’t ask me who. I’ve yet to decide. My vote is one of protest rather than one for a particular individual.
As a college student, I was shy. So, going to parties and meeting people was a challenge. After inquiring about a major, if the person did not share my obsession with sports or Springsteen, I had little else to say. No game!
There was one conversation starter I did share with people that often drew a reaction, “I’m running for president in 2020. I hope I can count your support.” By the way, this statement came with some thought. I figured I would be a nice round age in 2020 and will have accomplished great things by then. It would be time to give back before sliding into a lengthy and pleasant retirement.