 While I was wiping oil slicks off my window, throwing touchdown passes as the skate scoring champion, I was a letterman. And then they wanted me to play lacrosse because I was such a soft hands 160 pounder. But I couldn't do it because the seasons conflicted despite the fact that they're not conflicting. And then I drove trucks. And then when I was done driving trucks, I rode 62 million miles on Amtrak because a dead conductor told me so after the Secret Service threatened to shoot him.