My grandfather always wanted to drive a Winnebago across the country. Apparently it was something that he talked about a lot, even though I can’t even begin to imagine my grandparents rolling up to Yosemite in a motorized living room. It was something that he had planned on doing when he retired, when there was time to do that kind of thing. But he had a stroke at 64 and lived the rest of his years in a nursing home, confined to a bed. Not that my grandfather didn’t have a million adventures, but I always found it so sad that this one went unrealized. It always seems like there’s going to be time to do these things, no? We work hard now, reap the benefits later. But, as morbid as it sounds, we’re not guaranteed later. So I plan to live, all out, now.