So this was Back to the Future week. Marty and Doc popped in from 1985 and then left again. In 1985, I was a senior in high school and was wondering where my life would take me. My football career (what there was of it) was winding down and my artistic career was ramping up. I lived seven miles from my future wife but had no clue who she was. I did know her brother — but didn’t even know he had a sister. Life is funny like that.
I was, however, worried about my future.
I dreamed of being an editorial cartoonist but had no idea how’d I’d ever become one. Ever see a little plant growing in a sea of concrete? Dreams are like that. They find a way to flourish in the most difficult circumstances.
I’d pull into Sprayberry High School’s parking lot, park my 1969 Firebird under the pines, workout before school and then proceed to make good grades in class. The University of Tennessee awarded me an alumni scholarship — so I knew where I was going to college. During the day, I’d draw for the school newspaper. In the afternoon, I’d practice football. My life was very busy and involved lots of exercise.
That part of my life hasn’t changed much.
But other things did. Cancer visited me in 2001 and changed my life. My three sons were born and and changed me, too. Each obstacle I’ve faced shaped me and made me better. I’ve been a Pulitzer finalist twice, had successful books and professional success, too. I’ve lost jobs and suffered humiliating job reductions. I cleaned toilets which led to meeting my wife and starting my career.
Each “bad moment” led to unbelievable blessings.
If Doc and Marty popped up on my street and offered me a ride back to 1985, I’d go back — but not to stay. I’d hug my grandparents. Love my parents. And I’d find my 1985 self and say, “Everything will work out just fine. Enjoy the ride.”
And then I’d go back to the future.