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September 28, 2007
You asked me for a confession.

What can I confess that is not utterly trivial and yet not too intimate to share with strangers who may stumble upon it?

The time my brother and I came within a hair's breadth of setting fire to our camp site? (Truthfully, it was mostly my doing, the brother a reluctant accomplice.)

A sexual fling or three from my wilder days?

Things done, or left undone?

I confess this. When my father talks to me, I no longer make an effort to understand his rambling words. And I am glad when he stops speaking.