Confession: I’m just another brooding anti-hero . . . a pile of small, compounding mistakes. I put backspin on my tee-shots. I kiss pretty women mostly on their knobby chins.
And I write like a guy trying out one-liners at a bar.
Yet, I recently realized that doing things for other people purifies me in some quiet way, that their joy is my Aaronic blessing.
A good life contains so much servitude.
I mean, that’s what parenthood is all about, right? But it’s really the essence of my life right now, as I prefer helping friends and family to chasing Crypto and castles.
Here’s an example: The other day, in her grandparenting class, Suzanne sang “The Johnny Appleseed Song.” I’d have attended if I’d known.
