Maybe some of us were destined to wind up in this neck of the woods.
The other day I was going through a box of ancient personal papers. I came across a reminder that I almost went to the University of Idaho.
Back in the mid-70s, while in my second year as a student at a tiny state college in Vermont not far from home, I decided that my life really needed to be more like an Eagles song. So I applied to several medium-sized schools in the Intermountain West.
The U of I was kind enough to accept me. And I recall thinking that "the University of Idaho" would sound exotic to my friends in New England. It might even appear that I had a real plan, which I most assuredly did not.
"A Vandal? It's, um, a righteous pillager. Or something."
In the end, I chose another college. But sitting in my basement the other day, I found myself wondering how my life might have been different had I opted to matriculate in Moscow. Perhaps I would have formed an opinion about Spokane, one way or the other, while still in my 20s.
How about you? Ever been pawing through some old box of stuff and found a fork in the road?