In 1994 my brother and I decided to make a trip to California, the way I usually did trips. Back in LA, on the old Walk of Fame, we stumbled into a tattoo shop. I met a 16-year-old girl in there, not working but hanging out. I was 25 at the time so we got into a conversation. When I asked her what her biggest dream was, she told me she wanted a tongue piercing. I asked her if that is really the biggest thing she could think of and she told me that she had already seen everything else. I saw more of life at 25 than many people in their lifetimes and I still felt green. And that 16-year-old girl had it all figured out. She was full of crap of course but what does reality matter when you feel that you know it all?