The Measure of Success

Sometimes it is simple. When I was checking the mail today I had an epiphanistic realization. I had finally achieved success. As a man. Not because of a royalty check in the mail. Or a book or magazine with my name on or in it. Or, because I had just invented a word—epiphanistic, wtf? But that I finally lived on a road. With a mail box. And I lived on a road with double yellow lines. For miles in either direction. Double yellow. For a trout fisherman that means mountain roads. Yes…I finally live in trout country. The measure of success? Living near good fishing. Period.