I called my dad today. I don't think either of us could successfully carry a conversation with our best friends, let alone each other, so I'm content with the three minutes we manage.
"Curt," he says, "you've got to believe in yourself. If you want something, you have to go out and get it." He has never managed his own life by this philosophy.
"Dad," I say, "I've never been happier than I am now. I've got everything I need. I'm happy."
"You know that son-of-a-bitch Tim Krinock? That son-of-a-bitch moved to Vegas and just about made his fortune there. He had a dream, that son-of-a-bitch, and he went for it. In this world, Curt, there's just winners and losers and don't you get caught on the wrong side of that line." When he doesn't know what to say, Dad quotes Bruce Springsteen lyrics. He doesn't think I know.
"Dad, you're just quoting Springsteen."
"That son-of-a-bitch had a dream."
That son-of-a-bitch did have a dream. "Dad," I say, "sometimes I feel like I'm just dancing in the dark." This is a shady tactic, but a frequently necessary one when conversing with my father.
"That's all we're all doing, Curt. Just dancing in the dark."
He's right. What else is there to say?
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