I talked to a book editor last night. It's someone I know who along with their spouse is becoming a friend. They told me that they can usually tell within the first few pages if they are going to like a book. Think about the poor guy who has invested hours, make that weeks and months of his life perfecting what he considers his masterpiece. This is his message to the world, what he wants to share, and within ten or fifteen minutes the editor has decided whether or not to make this guys' dreams come true, or crush them like a fly near your picnic. I guess that probably happens about a million times more a day than I'd care to think about, especially living in beautiful Nashville, land of dreamers and very talented coffee barristers and restaurant servers.

Dreams are what life is all about isn't it. Not the weird dreams where you think you are in a star wars type battle defending your house like it was Hans Solo's ship against some Matrix like creature. I mean dreams that you have when you are old enough to not only dream your dreams, but make a serious run at them. What did you dream about doing/having when you were seventeen, what did you dream about doing/having when you were 21, what do you dream about doing/having now. I am sure that the goal was different at all those stages of life, but at that very moment, there was nothing in life you wanted more.

I remember when I was in college I told a friend that if I had a nice watch and a Mercedes I'd be happy. Within a year I had a Movado and a Mercedes. The total value of the two combined was less than $1,500, but I guess when I stated my goal I never put a value on it, but the names were there. I brought that car with me to Nashville and the driveshaft broke about a month after I moved here (I sold it the whole care to a junkyard for $100) and my watch's battery died over a year ago and it hasn't moved from my jewelry box since. Later in life I said I wanted a home with crown moldings, hardwood floors and some stone work at the end of the driveway, the apartment I moved out of when I got married had all three. It's so funny how you have things, even dumb things like that that in your head. You think, or at least I think, that is what it's all about, and then you realize they don't mean squat. My wife and I are in debt up to our ears from our beautiful but expensive wedding and so while neither one of us are even remotely satisfied with where our careers have taken us we are slaves to the check until all those credit cards are paid off.

So here I am, a man who along with his wife has consciously entered slavery. I am a slave to Discover, Visa and Mastercard in addition to my paycheck, at least for now. Will I take the lessons I have learned in this trap and learn from them, you better believe I will. Have these things motivated me to want to provide certain things for Natalie and for the children we'll hopefully have one day, you better believe it. When I get out of this debt will I want to start chasing dreams again, no question, I just hope that motivation doesn't drive me back into slavery again.