Write a book

V-Daddy learned along the way that poverty is ignorance. He ended up in South America as a peace corps volunteer to escape fighting a war of ideology and ignorance in Vietnam. From the many stories he’s told about his travels I recall one about villagers whom he taught to irrigate the land and practice safe hygiene in exchange for the nearly non-existent peace corps pay along with the chance to practice and learn from the vernacular language of the region. He didn’t speak of his own merit when telling the stories but what I gleaned was his commitment to do something with his education and talents that may help in peaceful efforts. He returned to finish a medical degree and now studies a disease that affects the people of that region. It seems a good life, I’ve always thought so.

Among our many conversations about life I recall a brief story he told shortly after his father’s death. At the family dinner table in 1960’s Middle American suburbia young V-daddy was recalling to his family through reasoned report some facts or lessons he had learned in his recent education. His father upon hearing his son extol reason replied with the following comment: “If you’re so smart, why don’t you write a book.” As he reports, he was never able to bridge that connection; between the privileges provided and the privilege enjoyed across generations.