For 30 days, I will be sharing random stories from each year of my life as the big three-oh looms. Consider it my way of coping.
The year was 1980.
Al Michaels asked if we believed in miracles, and the country was about to be blindsided with the music that would define a generation - Totally 80's!
I, on the other hand, was likely more concerned with which toy felt better on my gums, conducting all-day experiments on the living room floor of the tiny ranch I shared with my parents. They were still two years away from entering my brother into the equation, so the house likely felt larger than it would when we were squeezed into one bedroom.
Thus, I had the floor to myself.
And that, my friends, is the gist of 1980 for me.
The only thing I can reasonably take away from that year, without remembering one iota, is that the choices I make today can be directly related to that single train of thought running through my tiny brain while I chewed on my toys: If it feels good, do it.
