To enjoy what one does to make a financial living. To be good at what one does. To do what makes one’s heart beat hard and loud. To do what makes us hum and sing along to our own beat of our very own belong’s only to me, alone, drum.
To not allow the unhappy angry driver rob one of good vibes with their flip of the bird. Wrist action. That’s all that was. No more. No less.
To enjoy one’s slice of still slightly warm and not quite cool pepperoni pizza. To stand in awe of one’s offspring’s offspring who now stands over a foot taller than either one who sprung him into this world.
That’s the good life.