Sunday, October 23, 2011
A misspent youth is a wonderful thing and comes in many guises. Both of my sisters are extremely good at pool, and one, I won't say which, is an absolute demon. Wipe-the-floor-with-you, pool-table-hustler good. Don't say you haven't been warned.
I have friends who can roll their own, er, cigarettes one-handed. Friends who should never be challenged to a game of poker, or 500, or even Scrabble for that matter. I know guys who can play every song that Kurt Cobain ever wrote - and not much else. Girls who drive boring four-cylinder A-to-B cars like they're still driving the six-cylinder, gas-guzzling rev-head mobile they cruised through their twenties in. People who will never need a Cocktail Recipe book because they have every classic cocktail recipe memorised - and can produce one on cue.
The older I get the more I understand the notion that you only regret the things you didn't do.
Come on, 'fess up - what's the sign of your misspent youth?