It's quite the claim, I'm aware. Luckiest. Man. Alive.
Well, there's the fact that I smoked cigarettes for 12 years and was able to quit cold turkey and preserve years on the end of my life. But lots of people do that.
I guess I could claim its because on my 21st birthday I went skydiving, lied about my weight, and yet my tandem jump didn't result in a Wil E. Coyote-ish Matt Slebos sized hole in the ground. But many have jumped and lived to tell about it.
I suppose it might resonate with people when I say that I've traveled a good part of the world, and lived in some of the greatest places on earth - but there are many more well travelled than I.
No, in the end, I'm the luckiest guy on earth because this is my wife:
this is my son:
and this guy didn't kill me:
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
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might be my fave post so far.
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