While certainly not the street drug, the "crack" could be the beginning of something new, the split of my pants, or the demise of my angst-ridden mind. Which one am I serving up today? Read on. Feel free to comment, argue, dismiss, or inform. I welcome it all.
Growing Old . . .
I like when 16-year-olds lament the notion of getting old so compellingly. Why don't we ever cry out for "maturity now" like we do serenity?