I dream of a summer night long ago. I'm a 17-year-old usher in a neighborhood theater. We play second-run films. Most of that summer we show "Pursued," starring Teresa Wright and Robert Mitchum.
My parents have given me so much; it's now time to start giving back to them. I'm referring to guilt in this case. Specifically, guilt about not living up to one's potential, about not keeping up with the Joneses' children, about not providing ammunition for bragging rights over Shabbat dinner with friends.