I am a proud father of three, dismayed by the fact I have now endured my second divorce. It's tough when there is someone in front of you reminding you of every flaw and failure, and not just yours, but the flaws and failures of your gender, and the ones you are bound to demonstrate in the future. Is that how everyone feels about me?
I wrote a book once. College anecdotes, good times, ending on a high note. How did it go so wrong? I knew she was damaged, a troubled past, walls of defense, maybe a personality disorder or three, and injured animals fight to the death if they feel threatened. But I could help that, right? Review everything. This might hurt a bit. Maybe I should have pursued further the dozen or so interests that came before her. Maybe I should ask a few. Maybe I should look back at the closest friends from those times, too, as well as ones lost. This may not hurt quite as bad, except it might be worse.
This book covers my introspective journey of self-analysis. I try to figure out for myself, how looking over the side of a bridge with a stroller at a couple of ducks links itself with a group of friends I have been lucky to have for most of my adult life as well as to a girl from a long time ago that I never even kissed. Eventually, there may be a small pearl of wisdom or two, along with some graphic sarcasm, and descriptions and stories that had me laughing as I typed, proving again that laughter is still the best medicine.