I'm watching the news this evening, and it makes me realize how differently my life could have turned out.
I've never killed anyone. I've never seriously hurt anyone. I've never committed some big crime that sent me away for years.
I have been in jail twice.
The first time was in Oroville, California, back in the mid-sixties. I had collected a bunch of hitchhiking tickets. I didn't have any money to pay them, so the judge had me serve time instead. I spent about a month in the county jail and called the debt paid.
The second time was much later, in Lawrenceburg, Tennessee. I'd been drinking at a downtown bar and was walking home drunk. I spent that night in jail and paid the fine later.
That's it.
That's my criminal record.
When I look at some of the lives I see on the news, I realize mine could have gone in a much darker direction. It didn't. I made plenty of mistakes, but I never became somebody who destroyed another person's life.
I'm grateful for that.
At eighty years old, I don't really know what comes next. I don't have a woman in my life. Riley and Shelby have lives of their own, and I'm glad they do. They're supposed to.
So I have to figure out what to do with the life that's still mine.
Maybe it doesn't have to be anything grand.
Tomorrow, if everything goes right, I'm going to climb onto my trike and try to make it to the Biloxi beach.
After everything that's happened lately, getting there would mean something.
Maybe that's enough.
Get up. Put on the boot. Get on the trike. Go see the Gulf again.
Then come home and see what the next day brings.
One day at a time.
Until I can't.
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