I'll admit it, I'm a cynic. Genetics be what they may, growing up in the south as the only male (and eldest) child of a career military officer and a fundamentalist certainly doesn't help matters. Life's rough, things don't always go your way, the government and God are out to punish you, and politics were the playground of the rich and out-of-touch; a high school popularity contest for those whose egos never matured much past jocks and cheerleaders, school girl rumors and locker room banter.
Some things happened along the way, as they always do. I grew up and moved out west, trading grey thoughts and bright summer skies for brighter thoughts and the greyer skies of perpetual autumn. Gone are the smells of coal plants and the jarring sounds of southern rock, replaced with the eye-widening aroma of anytime, anywhere coffee and the depressingly true, yet energetic music of urban life.
