My father was not a particularly pessimistic person, but I remember one conversation we had that sure sounded like he was. I was a teenager and thinking out loud about what I might like to do with my life. My father was being the realist. I said maybe I would like to be a doctor. He said it took eight years of education after high school and we didn't have the money. I said, well maybe I will be a missionary to Africa. He said I would die from some awful, rare disease. Then I said I might like to be a soloist with the Metropolitan Opera. He said there were probably thousands standing in line waiting to audition for a single opening. Finally, I said in frustration, well, I guess I'll be a farmer then. Dad said nobody can afford to buy a farm these days. I gave up.

I thought of that convers…