I’m proud of being the last child of my parents. My father was a brilliant under-achiever, due to the Depression and WWII never got the education or experience, to match his intellectual hopes.

He ended up retiring as a boilermaker, making his foremen miserable with his distain.

My mother spoke Norwegian until she was five, dropped out of school in the tenth grade, wrung chicken necks, never learned to drive, raised four children in tough times, and beat my father in bowling in her seventies.

My father was a semi-professional, bowler, bowling in three different leagues all the while when I was growing up. I was raised in a bowling alley.

Get a grip folks, one way or another, we are all Nepo Babies.