My Noble Steed (Sort Of) I got a short up and back deployment to look at a water damaged RV in Virginia Beach.After dropping off Alida’s Car in Wilmington I hit the dusty trail for a trip so short in time that there won’t be any postcards. Just 11 hours and 680 miles in basically a day. The two days ride is a 2025 Nissan Sentra. Calling it a noble steed might be generous—it’s less stallion, more mule with a limp. The kind of mount they hand the greenhorn who hasn’t quite proven himself worthy of a bronc. My suitcase is the saddle, my backpack the bedroll, and together we’re just trying to make it from town to town without throwing a shoe. Maybe one day, if I stay loyal to the rental kingdom, I’ll be trusted with something that can actually gallop—or at least a goat that bites. The Ranch Owner’s Quarters But the trail took a funny turn. For one night, they put me up in a Homewood Suites. Two beds, a whole kitchen, a fridge big enough for a side of beef, and a bathroom the size of a danc...

Today I turned 49. That’s a strange sentence to type. Not because I’m afraid of the number—but because I’m honestly surprised to see it on the calendar. Somewhere along the way, life stopped being a race toward “what’s next” and became more about remembering what already happened. Lately, I find myself spending more time reflecting than planning. Not in a sad way—just in a “wow, that actually happened?” way. I’ve been thinking about the value of capturing moments. Not the polished, posed stuff—real moments. The kind that slip through the cracks unless you write them down. The kind you forget until something random brings them back. That’s why I started writing this blog. I wish I had started at 22. Back then, I thought I had it all figured out. I had energy, big ideas, and just enough cluelessness to think I was invincible. What would 22-year-old me have written about? Probably something cringey. Probably something about music, ambition, or some job I thought was going to be my forever...