The big Park Fire raging in California is over my home town of Paradise, which almost got wiped out at the end of 2018 by the Camp Fire.

It's the place where my family landed after a bunch of stops across the West, navigated with skill by my truck driving step dad.

The smoke is now spreading down into Teton Valley, ID, where my sisters family lives, and I lived for many years.

It's made me realize how many different places and cities I've lived in. It's got to be at least 40, maybe more. Two marriages, multiple relationships, jobs and just life in general can cause that over 78 years.

I left the hospital in Long Beach, CA as a preemie, after a week in an iron lung. Lived in a bunch of places before landing in Salt Lake City UT. Then on to Albuquerque NM, Reno NV, Floriston CA, Ivanhoe CA, Visalia CA and I'm sure I've missed a few along the way.

Then I landed in Paradise at the age of 15 or 16. I only remember one teachers name along that path, Mrs Ross, my fourth grade teacher in Truckee CA. She asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up. I honestly didn't know.

I confirmed that response years later, while living in some nice bushes next to a Hayward, CA public library. I walked in and read a book about computers, and the rest is history.

I've had a hell of a life, and still am. My number one goal now is to stay alive long enough to let my son get over just losing his mom.

That's what I want to do when I grow up.