Saturday, March 30, 2013

We Are Not Entirely Understood

Her father leans over the table at the Mexican restaurant, an earnest look on his face. "I was about forty-one, forty-two, and I had a few friends, and I knew what I was good at. I could read people - like you read books - and they helped me get a job doing what I was good at."

He relaxes back into his chair, sips his tea, then says, "I'm just saying I don't totally understand the lack of aspiration I see these days."

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