I Believe Every Human has a Finite Number of Heartbeats
“I believe every human has a finite number of heartbeats. I don’t intend to waste any of mine.”-Neil Armstrong
I’m not sure how today came to be, but it did. Mostly on a whim, I planned this trip to California. It was predominantly predicated on the desire to check out the Computer History museum in Mountain View. I’m a total nerd and it sounded like the best use of some vacation time. So ok, planning a trip to California is pretty standard stuff… that’s not why we’re here today. Today was interesting because I VERY last minute-like decided to drive out to San Francisco. It’s about 50 miles away from my hotel, but I figured “what the hell”.
So, I end up at the Golden Gate Bridge. After being COMPLETELY turned off by the amount of people at the visitor’s center I decide to drive away having gotten a single (not great) photo. A couple of random turns later and I end up at a free parking lot near what turned out to be an old military outpost. It guarded the bay with huge rapid-fire guns. Some capable of firing munitions over 12 miles. So that was cool, but then I realized it also had fantastic views of the bridge and the bay itself. (The latter was obvious, the former less so at first.)
After enjoying the views for a few short minutes, I realized I REAlly had to pee. Not wanting to deal with the humans at the visitor’s center (and assuming it even had a restroom), I hopped back in the car and decided to go find a gas station. Mission accomplished I decided, “hey, why not go back to where you just were. There were probably other cool things you didn’t see.” So sure, I backtrack and return to my new-found spot of intrigue. After snagging several new (and way better) photos, I’m mostly just walking around and checking out the military architecture. Suddenly, someone stops me to inquire about my Colts hat. The usual couple of initial questions quickly makes us determine that we are from the SAME hometown in Indiana. Further, we went to the same high school (albeit 10 years apart). The icing on the cake, though, was when she informed me that she was the daughter of my music teacher. He was a man I highly regarded, and was fairly good friends with his son. I never knew the daughter back then, but this chance encounter of being a whim upon a whim upon a dream was quite the twilight set of happenstances.
I’m not sure how today came to be, but it did.