The Unauthorized Biography of Rosco P. Coltrane

When it's my moment in the sun, I won't forget that I am blessed, but every hero walks alone, thinking of more things to confess

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Location: Owensboro, Kentucky, United States


Sunday, February 13, 2005

Sunday, The 13th, Fifth Day of Lent

I flew to Minnesota today. I start out the day in NWA, and believe it or not, the sun was beginning to peek out from behind the clouds. The flight to Memphis wasn't that bad. When I got to Memphis I bought a Commercial Appeal (my favorite newspaper) and ate a pretty bad bar-b-que sandwich. It was the flight from Memphis to Minneapolis that was bad. It was cramped tight and we sat on the ground for way too long before we left the ground. When we were finally up in the air, it was fine until the many holding patterns we were flying. We were finally cleared for landing. But as we were descending, we started going faster, way faster. Then we had a hard right turn and back up we went. It seemed that there was another plane that we were heading towards that was also trying to land. Which needless to say is very bad.

My mind thought of only one word: legacy. It has been a word that has been on my mind a lot for the past few weeks. And I have started to wonder, what will my legacy be? What will people remember about me? That I was a good friend? I hope so. That I was a decent writer that loved books? Probably. That I loved my fellow man as the commandment says? Maybe. And all the while I was thinking about this, I was stuck in a way too small van with way too many people talking about a business that I couldn't care less about. It won't be my legacy. But what will be my legacy?


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