For those of you who missed it, today is the birthday of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., a Georgia native (my homeboy), an Alpha Phi Alpha man (swagger personified), and arguably the most prominent figure in the American Civil Rights Movement.  He died before I was born.  I'm older now than he was then.  

History has taught me that while he lived, he was older than my grandfather, younger than my grandmother, and that he was more than the "I Have a Dream" speech, a superb piece of writing, by the way, and more than the March on Washington.  And frankly, I find the descriptions "dream" and "dreamer" terribly cliche and overused in reference to who he was.  People, especially writers, should find more words to use than those.  Trite much?

He was one of many who fought and died for equal rights, opportunities, treatment, and trying to offer the world a perspective of what could be with a little momentum and dedication.  Whatever else he was or wasn't, did or didn't do, it's because of him and many like him that I know many of you and can call you my family and friends, and can make the most of the opportunities that I have.  That's pretty cool.