Past meets future

Years and years ago (more years than I'd believe now) I left home after high school and came south for my education. As is not uncommon, I was of an age where it was just important for me to leave what was "old" in order to find something "new". I was full of hope and promise with dreams and ideas to find my way in the world, to strike an exciting new path and to boldly go where....

oh, forget it. It was nothing quite so noble. I left home for university and my family called me to say that I could live, free room and board, if I went to school in their city. And here I am to this day.

When I left, I left behind the small town, thinking it was for good, and for the better. Now after just having returned from Christmas holidays there, I see more and more the old saying is true, " you can take the boy from the home, but you can't take the home from the boy". I see it even more in my seven-year old son. I am convinced he'd fit in perfectly as a small town boy, sliding at break-neck speeds down questionably safe hills, ATV'ing around the property, and chasing animal tracks. In the summer months, he'd be riding his bike everywhere, up and down streets, through yards and away from dogs, all day long until dark. If not doing that, he'd be fishing. After two days up north he'd fit in like he's never been anywhere else. He has the same need for speed (the more the better) that his father has, without quite the same "oh s**%" realization of his own mortality yet. This I know, because he was the first to report to his mother, after we took air at a reckless rate of speed, "Mommy, Daddy said a swear word out loud!!" and proceeded to spell the word to his mother. Yep, another quarter in the jar. You'd think after breaking three bones already, he'd appreciate a little more caution in his life. Not so much.

With the exception of the fishing, he's more and more his father's son. Yes, there's a story there, but we'll save that one for another day. He's hooked on reckless downhill speed, just like his father was. He's more of an individual sports kid than a team sport player. Sure, he plays hockey in the winter - this is Canada, you have to. He likes to go to the driving range and hit a bucket of golf balls. He also plays baseball in the summer, less a team sport, and more a bunch of individuals wearing the same coloured pants at the same time - which is a fashion disaster on anyone other than children. His real sporting interest is his bike, which he rides everywhere he can. He's also a solid swimmer...you see where this is going? Yup, he's already got two of the three disciplines down, and he can run. He's done three triathlons, and in one more way he's still a lot like his father. His favourite part of the race might just be the snack tent afterwards. Okay, so I'm exaggerating a little bit, but if I don't get my bananas after the race......

Peace.