Sometimes I see myself in the mirror and I don’t recognize myself. I say sometimes but really I mean most of the time. I mean, I say most of the time, but I pretty much mean all the time.
Who is that guy?
Have I gotten taller?
Is my face different?
Is it the years under the belt?
No wrinkles and no gray–only some bags under the eyes.
Stress in the face. But joy in the heart. It’s right there in…