Your Mother Called: V. Football Star

traveling home by rail alongside the Hudson which in many places is breathtaking while in others–passing trash and other faces of poverty & neglect–sobering, as was the rickety-rackety ride whose meal car service has been discontinued; and then it occurred to me that my country is in many ways like an old high school football star, still thinking/wishing he’s all that, refusing to notice the pot belly and the balding, the messy divorce and the rampant addiction, propped up by his old buddies, wishing they had been him

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