an excerpt:

And while it is true that John looked pleased, it is also true John has spent a lifetime looking other than he actually feels. Or perhaps more illustratively, John has mapped a course of feeling that like the political parties of the day leans towards the middle, with little tolerance, in John's case, for the angst on the left or exuberance on the right, and he has run a flag up the mast declaring his centrist affiliation, and that is that. And that would be that if John were truly a centrist at his core, but who is truly such a thing. If Henry were near we might nudge him in the ribs and ask, How would you describe the boy's temperament, and Henry, depending on time of day and whether at work or home, would likely either shrug or ignore the inquiry, answering in absentia, What a stupid question. It is also possible he would shout an invective or two and to his last breath Henry would feel exactly the same, we could not drop into his life at any point and get a different, or more meaningful, report on John as a child, and while the next thought is to ask the wife, John's mother, who could be a better source than the woman who pushed John from her womb, and not without considerable pain, suffering, and blood sweat and curses, words the pristine catholic girl did not realize she was capable of repeating, and with such gusto and spit, and why wasn't she thought of first. Because John is little interested in her opinion.