Grab a carpet square because it’s storytime.
The longest home run I ever hit came in 1997. I spent that summer working at Yellowstone National Park cleaning hotel rooms. (I apologize deeply if you stayed in the nice rooms on the first floor of the Old Faithful Inn that season.) The job sucked and so did the living arrangements, but the scenery couldn’t be beaten.
I made friends with wolves. I got lost a few times. I nearly died. Twice. I rescued some people. I didn’t clean many rooms. It was a great way for a 19-year-old to live.