One day in 1963 my journalism teacher suggested I contact the Houston Chronicle about becoming a stringer, covering high school football. I did. I got the job. That started a relationship with the Chronicle that lasted ten years. I interned in the amusements department twice and covered rock and roll while I was in college after my two year Naval tour. I say this because the Chronicle, at the time, was an afternoon paper, and this little blog is coming out today in the afternoon, and it reminds me of my journalistic beginnings.

Not much to report today. I stepped in a hole last night that was full of water. Got my pants wet. Got my shoes wet. And nearly lost my keys. No harm though. Not even to my ego. I went down slowly, kept my balance, and fell as gracefully as an old guy can fall. My watch wanted to know if it should notify emergency services, which is a nice service for a watch to provide. I declined. Got myself up. The keys were found. I went home wet and dried out.

Luckily, I got a massage this morning. Found a few sore spots, worked them out. Now here I am typing away, while making a mental note that I should stick to paved surfaces when I’m walking in the dark. And to not assume the next footfall will encounter hard ground. I also decided that it was really great that I started hiking because my legs are strong, and my balance is good. And I think after lunch I might slip on my boots and go for a long walk, while hoping everyone is having a nice day.

John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver's Tale