Golden Reveries


I just watched Michael Phelps accept his 20th gold medal. The “Star-Spangled Banner” advanced through the Olympic stadium the way a summer breeze folds through a field of gilded corn.

The Olympics are an unparalleled advertisement for determination and dreams.

My dreams are not of circular necklaces, of being the best in the world. I dream of characters created, of known volumes filled with my words.

My father, the WWII history writer, just got his first rejection letter. The military publisher judged his life’s work economically unviable, which, in their defense, it is. I told my father I was sorry, but also said, he’d undergone a rite of passage and now had the email-proven bragging rights.

My message today is a simple one. A human one. We must never give up. Dream. Unabashedly. Without thought of future failure.

How, you ask? If I knew, I’d tell you. But, as I watch these Olympians, American swimmers, teenage gymnast-powerhouses, I simply know it’s possible. It can be.

My father will try again, with other publishers, a little more determined, blood pumping an altogether different mettle.

In the time it took me to type this post, Phelps won his 21st gold medal. Further solidifying his claim as the most decorated Olympian of all time.

Keep dreamin’. That gold may yet be yours.

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