“How many decisions does a guy get to make?” I asked my
brother, Michael.
“My only decision is when to eat lunch every day.” He
laughed.
“You’re lucky then,” I told him. “Most guys have 30 minutes
for lunch and have to eat at the same time every day, but I meant major life
changing decisions, not little ones like whether to wear a tie or what color
shirt to wear.”
“After I got married to Jo, I don’t think I’ve made any.” He
laughed.
“That is probably true.” I laughed. “But think about
decisions we make that have a definite before and after. Like deciding to go to
college for example.”
“Why bother?” he said. “Even God can’t change the past, so
why rehash it.”
“I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about writing my
autobiography,” I said. “I was thinking about the chapters of my life.”
“Okay.” He laughed. “Write down: first I lived and then I died.”
“I’m serious,” I said. “I decided to divide my book into two
parts: decisions made over which I had no control, and decisions I made.
“Like I said, ‘first you lived and then you died’.” Michael
laughed.
“Basically, part one deals with childhood and being hauled around
all over by adults who didn’t know what they were doing, and part two deals
with my adulthood when I dragged myself all over and didn’t know what I was
doing.” I said.
“Look. I think we need to decide when we are going to eat
lunch,” he said. “I’m getting hungry.”
“It’s ten o’clock in the morning, Michael.”
“Lunch will definitely be one of those before and after decisions
you were talking about.” He laughed. “We can call it Brunch and pretend to be
sophisticated.”
“You’ll never get away with sophistication if you wear that
dirty ball cap to lunch.” I laughed.
“All the dirt on this hat came from my race horses,” he said.
“It is very expensive dirt.”
“You can buy lunch then,” I said. “What do you think about me
dividing part one into chapters like: Decatur House, Life with father, City of
a Thousand, Hickified, City of lights, and so on, and then part two, when I
took over, into chapters like: College, Winning, Dropping out, First Marriage,
Children, Divorce, and so on?”
“I think you are going to write the most boring book in the
world, is what I think,” he said. “Forget about it. Let’s go eat.”
