Driving through Boulder: Another moment of clarity.

Driving into the office, I was thankful that traffic wasn't as horrific as I'd anticipated. In fact, it was a rather smooth ride with clear skies that allowed me to admire the mountains in all their deep magnificence. I felt grateful to appreciate the longer Fall season this year. It gives me the opportunity to sort out the quandaries of life yet again. Being in the midst of a second promotion for the year, I try to weigh whether or not this is where I really want to be. I ask, "What does my big picture look like?" I ponder my work, my relationships, the decisions I've made.

Typically I reserve such exchanges of mental dialogue for the end of the day, when I'm tired of work and have a drink in hand. Today though, I'm driving through this liberal, laid back city and allow my afternoon thoughts to wander about during business hours.

It occurred to me that this is one of those rare instances when I could smoke a candela or drink a solid ruby port to relish these internal observations. B.B. King's "The thrill is gone" played out of the Jeep speakers. I put on my sunglasses, drove along Diagonal Highway and took time to sit back and reflect. I decided that I absolutely love the blues. They're gritty and sad and they rock me to my core. They force me to be real. I exhale a puff from my imaginary candela and say aloud, "Phuck-an-a, the blues never lie."