In your own life, what would be the equivalent of a walk-off home run? (For the baseball-averse, that’s a last-minute, back-against-the-wall play that guarantees a dramatic victory.)

Everyone has hit a grand-slam at one time or another. Even me.

While I was still a kid I enlisted in the Air Force and scored my way into a yearlong electronic school. Reaching graduation day was no simple task, but I made it. I was no Einstein, by any stretch, but my achievement(s) earned me a job as maintainer on B-52 bombers. My electronic school failed to mention the navigation equipment I found on those aircraft. The learning curve was steep, but I succeeded.

A few years back I wormed my way in as contributing editor for a crop dusting magazine. I was able to hang onto that position for more than a year when someone asked me point-blank if I was a certified aircraft pilot.

There have been dozens of base hits along the route leading to old age. Perhaps that is the single most significant grand-slam of them all – maintaining my mental facilities through the march of time.

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