Let’s just get this out of the way – I’m a privileged white guy. I was born into a middle-class family in Nashville, Tennessee, one or two steps removed from a very working class family in previous generations. I was lucky enough to come out of the womb with a brain that works very well and loads of natural athletic talent. I’ve since learned that constantly being recognized for my intelligence and in-born ability, as opposed to say, working hard, creates all sorts of problems down the road, but that’s a subject for another time. Or maybe another blog.

The point is, I did well in school, and then I got lucky again when my mother got re-married to a guy who isn’t exactly upper crust in Nashville, but he is pretty damn close, and he knows all of those people from his days at Montgomery Bell Academy, an elite, all-boys prep school. If you’ve seen Dead Poets Society, you sort of know of it. They guy who wrote that went to MBA although the movie wasn’t filmed there. Because my stepfather was an alum and because I apparently crushed the entrance exam, they let me in. I doubt they knew it was my grandmother paying the hefty tuition bill using money she made as a professional wrestling promoter, or they may have had second thoughts. Yes, you read that last sentence right. Again – another time or another blog.

Because I was a student there and very near the top of my class during the spring of my Junior year, I competed and won the right to participate in a two-week internship at the U.S. Embassy in Paris. At the time (1986), Joe Rodgers, a Nashvillian, was the Ambassador to France appointed by President Ronald Reagan. He made this opportunity available to two students at four different private schools in Nashville. He was obviously a Republican. I doubt opening the competition to kids in public school ever crossed his mind.

So there I am – right place, right time, right grades. Suddenly, I get to go to France for two weeks the summer before my senior year of high school to assist with celebrations related to the centennial of the gift of the Statue of Liberty from France to the United States. Pretty cool, right?

It gets better (for me).

In addition to being born smart, I was also born a pleaser. If you read the previous post Where it all started, you may recall that I was a really good kid who never did anything wrong except for that one afternoon that wasn’t my fault because I was drugged. Well, I kept that up for another 11 years so I had an unblemished record at 17. So, shortly before I was supposed to head to Paris for my two weeks at the embassy, my mom and stepfather surprised me with a Eurail Pass, a ticket that allowed me to travel anywhere in Europe I wanted by train for a whole month.

Looking back on it, I still can’t believe I got the chance to travel alone, at 17, throughout Europe. I made my way from London to Brussels, Brugge, Cologne, Bonn, Koblenz, Frankfurt, and Paris, where I connected with my other classmate from MBA who was doing his embassy internship before me and another friend who came up from Lyons where he was doing a semester abroad. The three of us went somewhere up in Normandy for a weekend trip, and then I headed to Cannes for several days before returning to Paris for my turn at the embassy.

And it gets even better (again, for me)!

My stint in Paris happened to be at the beginning of July so not only did I get to attend the July 4th party at the Ambassador’s Residence (held the Saturday before if I remember correctly) and meet Greg LeMond days before he began his successful bid for the Tour de France, I also got to attend the Bastille Day celebrations on the 14th.

17 years old and already a seasoned international traveler heading into my senior year of high school.

I. Was. Hooked.