After 14 years of living in beautiful Moab, Utah, I decided it was time for a change. OK, it's not a really big change; I moved 90 minutes east to Grand Junction, Colorado. There are still plenty of red rocks, the Colorado River, and fabulous hiking. The politics are slightly more liberal, shopping is better, and there's an airport here. (Not to mention better geriatric care!)
I hope to be able to attend the upcoming 45th and visit both of my brothers.
As proud as we all were to represent NC in 1969's inaugural parade, I couldn't help but wish we were marching in Obama's parade instead of Nixon's. I still dream that I'm in the band sometimes, using my baton as a cane, of course.