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Thursday, July 09, 2009

The Running of the Bulls; An Invocation

I had wanted to approach this age with all the zest, all the candor, all the panache, that a passionate, thriving soul possibly could.

As the age of 30 looms near it was time to celebrate what it means to enter into summer-ripe manhood and finally brush off what was meddling and trite.
I guess that upon the threshold of such a pivotal age, I should take up golfing, start investing in stocks, buy a big house, and worry about the economy crumbling in.

My rite of passage, I could start swaggering about the office cubicle, find myself a wife who paints her nails while watching ¨Desperate Housewives¨, and deem myself loyal to one sport´s teeam, whooping my ancient, primitive war cries into the mundanity of ESPN. But no, I chose instead to go running with the bulls in Pamplona, Spain on a bright summer´s morning, my red sash whipping through the wind.

More to Come....


Anonymous Lori T said...

I'm glad you chose running w/ the bulls. I wouldn't want you to take up golf or working in an office cubicle. Not you, my friend.

7:49 PM  

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