This is a picture of my dad at peak “bad ass.”
For most of his career in federal law enforcement, he also served as a firearms instructor. This picture is of him demonstrating the operation of a Thompson .30 sub-machine gun (aka the Tommy Gun) to one of his classes.
My wife gave me a framed copy of this picture for Christmas.
As I looked at it without the wrapping paper, memories came flooding back of my father in his prime, full of vitality and possibility, and blissfully unaware of the brain tumor that would rob him of his later years.
So it goes.
I remembered going to the Alabama Police Olympics with him. He’d compete in racquetball and softball, usually winning a medal in racquetball while getting a “thanks-for-showing-up” handshake in softball. I remembered his big nemesis in racquetball, a deputy with the Mobile County Sheriff’s department that he nicknamed “The Pirate” due to his earring and bandana he wore while playing.
And then I thought about what pictures my own children might find of me one day and wonder if my life was cool.
What would they find? Pictures of me at the computer? Sitting on the beach? Playing golf?
Decidedly not as cool, which got me thinking bigger picture.
Am I at peak bad ass? (No.) Have I ever been? Why has this never been a goal? Is it something we can aspire to, or does it just happen organically?
In years past, I’ve avoided New Year’s resolutions. I guess I never found something I considered worthy of my efforts and worthy of holding myself accountable.
Peak Bad Ass in 2023.
I like the sound of that.
What are you doing to make this year the best one yet?