As I grow older I am finding that I can only really think when I'm on an open highway. Cranking up the new sound system and digging obscure tracks off the bottom of my iPod. An adventure was had, just me and my trusty Jeep, a new steed.
It was this freedom that opened up my head to mull over tiny specs of brain lint. Like... should I move to the Pacific North-West. Or, since I'm over 40 is it time to stop seeking out every trendy haircut. Can a guy my age really pull off sporting untied high tops? I did; however, come to terms with finally settling on a tattoo. Yes I still plan on getting a Latin phrase inked vertically upon my
side. Now, most dude these days have something in either Latin, Italian or "old"English tattooed upon their sides. they choose this or the logo for Cadillac. Typically the phrase is a motto the dude lives by, like "know thy self" or "Only god can judge." I was seeking a motto that defined me. But, who was I? Upon this road trip, through the high cliffs of the Rocky Mountains I found my life's motto. An epigram for my purpose in life. That short shibboleth sentence that would define me. My version of Holden's Red Hunting Hat. Right upon a hair-pin turn that I took too fast it hit me; my slogan to permanently ink into my skin....
lectisternia angustum est vita vilis