My kids are professional sign makers. Or at least they should be. They’ve been making signs since a mass shooting in their hometown made Newtown a household name. They made signs for Hartford to March for Change in February 2013, just two months after the Sandy Hook massacre, the pinnacle of creating Connecticut’s smart, safe gun legislation. They made signs to stand outside National Shooting Sports Foundation, don’t let
Spring break is wrapping up in my corner of the world and while those lucky bastards still venturing off to warmer clients, oblivious to the fact their 529s won’t buy books, I took my soon to be 17-year-old daughter college hunting in the sort-of, kind-of, mid-west. Or rather, what Nor’ Easterners call mid-west. Ohio and Pennsylvania. According to Yahoo Maps, it was 21.45 hours of actual drive time, round trip.
Let’s just say this working, not working, freelancing, stay-at-home, flex-time, tele-commuting, blogging life I’m living is not really an on-ramp, off-ramp situation. It’s more like the movie we’ve all seen but never admit to: Chevy Chase’s European Vacation. Remember? “Look kids, Big Ben!” Constant chaos, but with moments of clarity, beauty and humor that make the trip worthwhile. Take for instance, my first, real, live, paying, back-to-work experience in um, let’s say, about 2½ kids: