And the flip side of Wednesday's entry: what's your good twin like?
His name's Tad, of course. He definitely weighs three-hundred pounds. He has a relentless combover that he doesn't think looks at all bad.
He lives in West Memphis, just blocks from his mother and grandmother.
What does he do? I'm not sure. He manages people, but I think he also sells things, too. Maybe a sales manager of some kind? He hates the work, but he loves the money and it turns out he's pretty good at it.
He's married to a nice Christian girl. They have three kids. They're front and center every Sunday morning at First Baptist Church.
He has one pair of jeans. He can't fit in to them.
He thinks he might just be mayor one day.
He's struggling with a mortgage, a vacation condo in Gulf Shores, the notes on a truck and an SUV and the mounting expenses of tuition at West Memphis Christian. His wife refuses to work. She's plagued by strange drifting illnesses that barely leave her strong enough to play golf, eat lunch with her friends and blow the kid who cleans out the pool.
If he's out late at night in Memphis he cruises Madison and Jackson, Stage Road and Mt. Moriah. He never stops and talks to the girls, but making eye contact gives him an electric little thrill.
He feels like he's about fifty years old, and he isn't thirty yet. He thinks everyone feels this way.