Living the dream, because it sure feels like one…

My parents were on the road this weekend seeing a boxing match.  My father sent me this email upon their return.

So, I’m checking out of the Best Western Route 66 Rail Haven motel in Springfield this morning and the desk clerk pulls up my bill and says, “Oh!  Are you related to JT Eberhard?”

I told him that Yes, you were my eldest son.

He says, “I haven’t met him personally, but I’ve read some of his stuff. He seems like a really cool guy.”

Thought you should know about this.  It was nice basking in the reflected glow of your glory and notoriety.  Now, pick up your socks and put your dirty dish away!

:o)

How about that shit?

I still feel like a smartass college kid running around giving religious people metaphorical wedgies.  Even with the speaking gigs and what not, it still shocks me when I get recognized or when somebody approaches me at a conference and tells me they’ve been trying to get the nerve up to speak to me.  It all seems so surreal.  I don’t feel any different.

How does one adjust to being something different?  How do you do it without hating yourself for being pretentious?

It’s all very flattering, and I enjoy it, but I just worry it means I’ll have to grow up.

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