My nephiew, my wife’s middle brother’s son. A decent kid, 30, has a clear head on his shoulders. Waited long enough to get married that his stupid is mostly behind him. Good looking, crooked grin that endears him to everyone he meets.

New wife is a willowy brunette, couple years his junior, very easy on the eyes.

They can dance, too- you can see him put a little pressure on her back and lead and she follows as effortlesly as can be. Not astaire, but hell- everything Astaire did, Rogers did backwards in high heels.

Anyway. Nephew and his new wife are forest rangers. They live in a cottage in the woods miles from civilization. He hunts and fishes for a living. She hunts and fishes by his side.

I took him aside and told him what I did. How I dealt with idiots all day long. How I crawl through slime and shit trying to get from A to B for 50 weeks a year.

How I do that so that a couple weeks a year, I can put on my good boots, sling a rifle over my shoulder, and go out and feel the dry leaves under my feet, in search of bambi- or squirrel, or whatever. How I put up with the foulest shit on earth so for a little while, I can do what he does every day. I reminded him that he is living the dream. I made him promise that any day he felt put upon he’d remember how I live, and why. he grinned that crooked grin and promised he would.