25 years ago today (ish) I graduated from Princeton University with a degree in visual art (photography) surrounded by the expectation that I would do extraordinary things. Our reunion weekend began yesterday, and I am content to be reading about it on Facebook from the comfort of my perfectly ordinary Memphis, TN kitchen, reflecting on 25 years of perfectly ordinary life. I haven’t published a book, summited Mount Everest, started a Fortune 100 company, or been featured in any national (or international) publication. I applaud all of my classmates who have, and I wish them the happiness of enough, whatever enough may be for each of us. I have learned more in the last quarter century than in the one preceding it. I’ve learned that, for me, the joy of photography is complete in itself. The wonder of family and friends outside of the Ivy League is humbling. The delight hidden in the seemingly unremarkable is never to be undervalued. May the next 25 be the same. And, for the record, if the picture were in color, you ’87ers would see that the tank top strap is orange. Duh.