This is a general observation, of how I’ve become more like my Dad as I’ve grown older. When I was young, I didn’t understand my fathers politics or his world view. Suffice it to say that he didn’t understand mine either, so we were even on that point.
As time moved on, we had our differences and misunderstandings. And reconciliations.
The other day I was taking clients out on a tour, and we pulled into a local barbecue spot for lunch. Never underestimate the power of a good meal to set the tone for a visit. After eating, I was pulling out and bumped the curb, breaking the bead on my tire and quickly deflating it. After some complications, the spare was in place, and we were back on tour.
It was then I remembered my Grandmother. Nearly blind, she was still driving well into her 80’s. I remember looking at her tires, and shaking my head. She had nearly worn the sidewalls through, scraping along curbs wherever she went, dealing major abuse to her poor car.
So while I have become more like my father than I would ever have believed, I have to be on my guard. I don’t want to start driving like my Grandmother.