20 Years of Self Delusion
“History teaches us that men behave wisely once they’ve exhausted all other alternatives.”
Some quotes feel like they were written with me in mind. This one from Still Crazy might as well have my name on it.
“History teaches us that men behave wisely once they’ve exhausted all other alternatives.”
Some quotes feel like they were written with me in mind. This one from Still Crazy might as well have my name on it.
Vacations—especially family ones—are less perfect adventure and more chaotic comedy. I chase the “happy upcoming thing”—autumn, holidays, spring break—but the escape often turns into a mess. Cruises rain disappointments: rough seas, thin tissues, missing salt shakers. Yet those ruined moments—a laugh with waiters, pepper shakers that aren’t even real—become the ones you remember. Just like the Griswolds, joy often hides in the ordinary, messy, grumpy parts. And maybe it’s enough.
These words have always been a source of comfort, a reassurance in life’s uncertainties. But that Wednesday afternoon, I would discover just how deeply I needed them.
There’s a kind of emptiness I’ve seen in students who seem perfectly capable—present but not present. It’s like they’re slipping through the cracks of their own potential. That’s what made the Parable of the Talents hit me differently. The servant who buried his gift wasn’t lazy—he was afraid. My dad, by contrast, never waited for work to come to him. He collected soda bottles, worked without complaint, and never sat idle. Real faithfulness isn’t always flashy—it starts in those quiet, everyday choices to show up.