I had one hero growing up. Years later he walked up the dock, got on the superyacht I was working on, and I served him dinner for a week. I never said a word. Not one word.

This one's about what we wanted to be when we were little, and how far away we ended up — from Getaway presenter, to war correspondent, to working four jobs and landing in France with 18 euros and no plan. Somewhere in there I wanted to be a box of crayons. Somewhere in there I snuck a Polly Pocket into church.

Turns out I didn't miss the dream. I just got here sideways, about twenty years late, and didn't notice.

Also: my recording died mid-episode, so please enjoy an unsolicited ad for the 300-gallon water bottle I wasted my money on last week.

What did YOU want to be? I bet you're closer than you think. ...