Rearview mirror holds vision of past

I'm driving west on Cypress yesterday, going home from work about 6:30 p.m., thinking about a million things including tight budgets, lean resources, committee meetings, local politics and how I can possibly be in three places at once, when I stop at a red light and glance in the mirror.

Behind me is a beater car holding three teenagers. It's a portrait of adolescence.

The pretty front passenger is brushing her very long,very blonde hair, bracelets twinkling in the late sun. The back passenger is visible between the front seats, head down in serious cell-phone conversation. The driver is using both hands to launch a full-scale assault on a chin zit.

Give me a budget meeting any day. I wouldn't be a teenager again for anything.


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