THE MOMENT OF DECISION
I was close to forty when I discovered I was a failure. I had a job working at a resort hotel, and was supposedly in charge of building a golf course. I was supervising a group of partially dried-out alcoholics. A man I knew came up to me. I don’t know what his real name was, but everyone called him “Mike the Plumber.” Mike and I had been talking for a while when he asked: “How old are you? I said I was in my late thirties and he demanded, “When are you going to do something, when will you get yours?” At this point I realized that in many ways I was a failure. I was aware that I had many abilities and a high I.Q.; I was married to a remarkable wife, and had two great children. Many things were O.K. Except that I had had so many awful jobs — more than sixty of them — that…
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