She’s the most risk-averse person I know. She’s someone who grew up in the Great Depression, remembers World War II, and lost a child, my twin brother, three days after we were born. She’s been through a lot, so I can’t blame her. When I travel for pleasure, even to safe places, she gets palpitations. A visit to Philly, my college stomping grounds, sets her on edge because she happens to watch Philadelphia TV news, which stresses blood-and-guts. With a mother like that, brutal honesty isn’t always the best policy, and you learn to tell white lies.
Now, how do I tell her that we’re planning to move to a place she’ll perceive as Drugcartelandia? She won’t know the distinctions [Read more…]