Let me tell you a story about a man I know. I’ve known him all my life and am trying, day by day, to know him better. You may know someone like him.
About thirty years ago, his life blew up and left him in a state of quiet and relentless rage. He longed for a kind of oblivion, for respite from the tortures of his life. He gazed at the old men who bagged his groceries and marveled at their seeming happiness. His greatest aspiration was to enjoy the life of a bagger, free from responsibility other than to keep the eggs on top of the Miller High Life and the shopping carts lined up