Is it really only day 4? Ouch. OK. Off we go.
I never thought there was anything particularly magical about Heritage Village, the neighborhood where we all grew up. I hope you'll forgive my blasé reaction to an entire little world laid out cul-de-sac across from cul-de-sac ad infinitum. Shingled mailboxes, dog walker's paradise and no trouble to be found even if you were looking for it. This is (upper) middle America, a neighborhood built of dead ends that occasionally made it hard for me to imagine going much of anywhere.
But it turns out I was wrong. There was a bit of magic back in the HV. It was us. From five separate but nearly identical houses, my friends and I launched five different but no less spectacular lives. As I learn a bit more about how the world woks I'm all the more amazed that we, armed with a public school education, a few letter jackets, jazz band performance and snowboard stories made our way into the some of the top schools in the US. From small liberal arts colleges to to the tops of the ivy league, from prestigious leadership programs to the world's most respected naval academy, we were just ignorant enough not to realize that this isn't how it usually works.