THE LIFELINE

Had the world been my oyster at 21, I’d have asked the waiter to take it back. In nostalgic hindsight, youth becomes Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, full of possibility and adventure. In reality, mine was more like

Cormac McCarthy’s an endless struggle against despair and confusion. I probably seemed normal enough on the outside—a senior in college, living in a group house, waiting tables. Inside, I was just trying to keep from drowning.