Come on you raver,
You seer of visions
Come on you painter,
You piper,
You prisoner,
And shine!

-Pink Floyd (1975)

How many late nights have I had writing to Pink Floyd's Pulse? Many years ago, I made it my 500th CD, a live album released on May 29, 1995 that featured their studio album, The Division Bell along with the classics. Despite the markup, I purchased the red blinking light, double-CD at the music shop at Wolfchase Galleria, next to Hallmark and diagonal from my World of Science. That album would whirl around in my CD-ROM on my custom, blacklight-painted, 350 Mhz late into the night as I spun up thought. No, my words have not survived the years. But, by any indication of my rhymes that remain, they were more than the stuff of smiles and phone numbers that my high school journal covered.

I think back at that fella and his weekend delight at that mall's walk-in humidor then escape into the night with his convertible's top down. It contrasts with today's guy who wants to know what exactly are the "natural and artificial" flavors that make that coffee taste like eggnog.

But there were reasons for both.

So, have I changed?

I'd like to think I left the knucklehead behind. But, that was never me, just my response to the "synergy" of my college peer group, a 1-1=-3 situation. It was from a time I took on the clumsily-fitting mantle of an extrovert; I should have held fast to the superior life of the introvert. It seems like life's greatest lessons are always outside of the classroom.

One aspect of my writing that I appreciate is how I seem the same through the years. Yes, there are positions switched—even polar ones, like vegan to carnivore, but that's been more of my general take in emphasizing pliability to adopt better solutions.

If I took the DeLorean out for another spin and spent an afternoon with 1998 me, I don't think we would be dissimilar. And I suspect if we went 26 years in the other direction—well, firstly, I'd say, "Kudos, you made it past that 10-9-2044 expiration date," I don't think that guy would be much different either. I'm still me, no matter what era I exist.

The inputs are different—the situations. What was I like...

...running a printing press?

...supervising a grocery front end on Saturdays?

...sweating on job sites while testing concrete?

...spinning a yo-yo at a science store?

...working Monday through Friday at a church?

...supporting servers and desktops; and managing student workers?

...lost in Europe alone with no phone with my backpack as my traveling companion?

...working at a Starbucks out West inside of a Safeway?

...teaching university classrooms in the Czech Republic and the United States?

...changing diapers?

...homeschooling?

They're all different roles, different sides of me, but I remain me. It is just a different tabletop game. I remain Player One.