Someday, everything will make perfect sense. So for now, laugh at the confusion, smile through the tears, be strong and keep reminding your self that everything happens for a reason.

You get to a certain age where you prepare yourself for happiness. Sometimes you never remember to actually get happy.

I'll never let your head hit the bed without my hand behind it.

I get recognized somewhere in between like local meteorologist and national meteorologist.

Most times when you try to be all things to all people, you end up being nothing.

The minute hand moves faster than you think it does.

Maybe someday you can accuse somebody of being a poseur by selling out and playing blues music, but that's just not going to happen in my lifetime.