I was in the checkout line at Target last week when I heard someone call my name.
“David? David McElroy?”
I turned and looked at the man calling my name as though he knew me. The voice was slightly familiar, but I’d never seen this man before. He was a stranger.
Or so I thought until he told me his name. It was someone I’d met in business through a mutual friend. We were friendly and had done a little business together, but we hadn’t ever really been close. Still, the man I saw in front of me wasn’t the man I’d known. This was a new man.
It’d been a couple of years since I’d seen Paul. (That’s not his real name, but it’s what I’m going to call him here.) The guy I knew was a lot heavier. The big weight change was the most obvious difference. But there was something more than that. I couldn’t put my finger on it.
We ended up standing there talking for nearly two hours. He told me all about the changes that had taken place in his life. He seemed eager to tell how the “new” Paul had come about.
Pop culture creates overgrown kids in adult bodies who won’t grow up
If you must be ‘good enough,’ you’ll never start to be yourself
Tell me the music you listen to and that’ll reveal a lot about you
If there’s something you must do, income and vocation might clash
Childhood programming makes it hard to believe I’m ‘good enough’
When did someone decide we have the legal right not to be offended?
Urban Meyer’s drunken behavior points to deeper character issues