Tales in Avacado

As I inch closer to 400 posts and 16,000 visitors, I feel the desire to take stock in my life. Not because I think I have any good insight for you, my faithful and haphazard readers, but because I like taking stock. Maybe we can add your experience to my experience, and together we can solve all the problems of the world.

Our lives are full of significant dates. I was thinking about mine. In no particular order, these are ones that seem significant to me:

• April 2, 2001: the day I ran into The Missus during a fire drill and decided to make her The Missus
• May 21, 2004: the day I made The Missus The Missus
• March 2, 1993: the day she (not The Missus) waved me across and then ran me over
• August 12, 1994: the day John Kruk said $13,000 a game wasn't enough

I posted about August 12, 1994, two and a half years ago, so I'll try not to be redundant. Succinctly, baseball---who had me from Jesse Barfield and the 1989 Blue Jays---slapped me in the face. I beat my bullies by avoiding them, so that fall (sixth grade), I discovered comic books and really picked up a pencil for the first time. By the end of eighth grade, I knew drawing wasn't in my future, so that summer I picked up a guitar. By my junior year in high school, I knew being a rock star wasn't in my future, so I picked up a law book. (Not really. I just phrased it that way for the sake of parallelism.) I still haven't given up on that dream, but in May of 2003, I picked up Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried and really read a book for the first time. I decided I wanted to make a living telling stories. In truth, if you want to tell stories, you become a trial lawyer. It's the easiest way.

So now here I am. No ball skilz, some word skilz, mad trial skilz, and John Grisham dreams. There's only one Grisham, but maybe one day you'll see my name in raised letters on a trade paperback in Barnes & Noble. Here's hoping.