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The minute I drive through the gates of Ocean Grove I roll the windows down to smell the ocean air; I open the sunroof to feel the warmth of the sun and I turn up the music. The feeling of coming home washes over me like the waves on the shore and the sight of Ocean...

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives...

As a student of history I notice we tend to paint our leaders in a bold light, with a fine tipped brush to show their strength, on a big canvas so they appear larger than life and with almost super human qualities.  They show up on the scene just in the nick of time...