Reality is the shit hitting the fan, figuratively, and literally. Reality is one moment you are watching LL kool J on American Bandstand. You didn't know but you were watching history being made, the cultural tide turning right before your very eyes. The next moment you are finding out that the goofy, gangly kid from the no name private school is going to a no name div nothing school and becoming a football star damn near an urban legend,again right before your very eyes. You blink and he has now become a little footnote in the CFL, and that goofy guy became a crazy guy, who became a thoughtful guy became a TIME magazine writing guy who is now the sorta broadcaster guy, who is the forsure father guy of a boy and a girl, and a married guy to a pretty awesome wife guy.
Time just moves so fast sometimes, and the people like our parents just watch us grow and grow, and then multiply and then one day your sister calls late in the evening and she tells you your Dad is having sharp chest pains and is at the dreaded VA hospital. You know its only the beginning to the time just running out for everything. Your dad the guy who you have had so many ups and downs with, the guy who taught you so much in and fought with you so much as you tried to assert your manhood. He is IRON you always thought, flawed, funny, and indestructible. He is rough but, so smooth in his world which I was never apart partly because GUH I was only a kid, only you now start to begin to kinda understand.
Remember the moments that made you smile I look back and I get angry now that there weren't enough of them. I look back and as I sit tears welling up and hoping that its nothing, just a blip on his odometer that is telling the Super man to just slow down....
