I was not an accomplished student in high school. To this day, many of my oldest friends recall placing bets on whether or not I would show up for class. But I was an avid reader, and like many teenagers, I gravitated towards The Catcher in the Rye. In a more humorous act of parental guidance, my father confiscated the book until I improved my grades, for fear that J.D. Salinger’s writing was “making me a cynic.”
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