Me Vs. the Leaves

I always figured it would be different. I would be smart and good-looking, that would stay the same, but I thought there might be a little more money and possibly a book deal or two. Let’s not forget the tabloid allegations about a cruise with a bunch of playmates. Basically, I thought I would be more successful in my creative and objectionable outlets.

Since I was just a boy I have always had the sense that I was meant for something. Something big and great. Of course I interpreted that to mean a movie star, a professional athlete, the president, or some other position of lesser importance that we put on a pedestal and throw money at. What else could destiny have in store for me if not fame and riches? Surely my “something” wasn’t serving crappy beer to a bunch of drunk and lonely men on a weekday afternoon. Was it?

I think not.

I find myself sitting here on a crisp autumn morning, sipping coffee and gazing through my haggard reflection in the window at tired trees and leaves that have lost all hope. Did they fulfill their purpose? I would assume so, although I have never seen any of these leaves on the cover of TV Guide or The Enquirer. They have done what they were born to do, done it well and given everything. Everything.

I don’t know that I have given it my all. I am tall in stature but short in will. Luckily I have a bit more time than the turn of a season to pursue my potential. At least I have a feeling of what it is I was born to do- and it is the most creative avenue of all. I am not a sports star, and thankfully I am not the president. I am richer and more important than that. I am a father, and it is a work in progress.

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