Appropriate that when I receive my first C in years, he reminds me of the futility of education in relation to joy.
Outside the bar, he chides his friends for riding without nightlights.
Majored in literature because he “was good enough at it,” the only way he foresees using his degree is if, “I don’t know, I go back to school.”
He started working on his future (literally) in college, when, strapped for cash, he taught himself to repair bikes.
Started as an apprentice 3.5 years ago, now he’s the head mechanic at my favorite shop.
More importantly, he’s happy.
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