Been there, done that.
Career, family, house, private pension, the works.
He spouts his words of wisdom, too, on everything under the sun.
Politics, the economy, getting old, whatever.
He appears to pity my skepticism, my melancholy, my world weariness.
He has no religion, yet his faith in life, especially his own, seems ample compensation.
One of life’s winners.
Yet I preferred him as the angst-ridden student with whom I shared the drink and drug-driven ups and downs of youth.
He’s older, certainly, but for wisdom I must look elsewhere.