If you read a few of these posts you'll notice I say we a lot. I, not so much.
The reason for that is Tammy. I say Tammy a lot so you might as well know who I'm talking about. She's pictured aboved in her customary shotgun postion. She won't drive unless I can't and we're on our way to the hospital.
She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen and the toughest person I've ever encountered. The funnest, funniest, finest human I've ever met or ever will.
She loves to sleep on the ground, on the floor, on the beach, in the truck, in airports and between beautiful sheets.
She kicked cancer in the ass without missing a single day of work during chemo and passed on wigs and hats when her hair fell out cause she'd shaved her head twice already for the hell of it so what was the big deal.
She understands about breakfast beers, and I don't mean she's understanding, I mean she fucking understands.
She knows there are few things finer than packing everything you need onto your back and walking away for days from all the fine, fun things that you do not need.
She's afraid of funny litttle things that nobody is afraid of and fearless about the big shit that most of us won't go near.
She loves to spend money and has no trouble living a big, big life with next to none of it.
She's my warrior, my little hero of the revolution and my accomplice in business and in every other worthwhile thing in life.
And, yessir. I am a lucky man.
