It’s strange sometimes how things work out. The people you meet, the places you go, the decisions you make, all leading you down a path fraught with disappointment or another path abounding with bliss, or even a path of indifference.
If I hadn’t been running late to the airport, I never would have sat next to that person on the plane and wound up married a few months later. If I hadn’t stopped at the casino that night, Terry wouldn’t be one of my best friends now. If only, if if. Shoulda, woulda, coulda. Hindsight, blah, blah, blah.
If a series of events at work hadn’t happened last year, I wouldn’t have resigned my job and run off to Europe and stayed in a particular hostel and met Donna and her son Ian, who I’ve kept in touch with since. If I hadn’t seen Steve Martin on Saturday Night Live that night and liked his banjo music, it wouldn’t have led me to Tim O’Brien, who is now one of my favorite musicians, which led me to his tour schedule and a concert in Berkley in April, which is 30 minutes from Donna and her family in East Bay.
As events have conspired, I’ve just planed a trip to California at the end of April and Donna and I are going to see Tim in concert and I’ll stay with Donna and her family. It should be hoot.