Sons,

“It is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them.”

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

It’s rare that the three of you are serious. When one of you becomes serious, the others drown out your sobriety by elevating their levels of strange until you have no choice but to join in. If there’s anything that the three of you jointly hold dear, it’s weirdness.

I’m jealous.

I’m 30, and the oddities, eccentricities, and immaturities inside me often feel like candles burning at the end of their wicks. By the time you read this- who knows? Maybe you won’t be able to believe that I was once like you. Maybe stories of my mischief won’t break throughout the vivid images you have of me lecturing you about grades, finances, common sense and that shit about how we’re not the same as your friends’ free-wheeling…