Hillbilly Elegy

Thinking about it now, about how close I
was to the abyss, gives me chills. I am
one lucky son of a bitch.
Not long ago, I had lunch with Brian,
a young man who reminded me of
fifteen-year-old J.D. Like Mom, his
mother caught a taste for narcotics, and
like me, he has a complicated
relationship with his father. He’s a sweet
kid with a big heart and a quiet manner.
He has spent nearly his entire life in
Appalachian Kentucky; we went to lunch
at a local fast-food restaurant, because
in that corner of the world there isn’t
much else to eat. As we talked, I noticed
little quirks that few others would. He
didn’t want to share his milk shake,