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I Want to Be Dangerous“I want to be dangerous. The poor are dangerous. The rich are dangerous. But no one is frightened of the middle class. No one is frightened of me,” my father said.
His latest business failure, combined with years of simmering animosity as a result of my grandmother's public proclamation that he and my mother were ill suited to raise me properly, made my father almost angry. All their lives my parents did what they thought the world wanted them to do. They had forgotten to rebel when they were young, and later they drew their lives within the edges of a stencil. The bromide “Being good is its own reward” mocked them. They just wanted to feel and be something else than they were. And then they kept hearing about the Beats. My parents were unsure what they stood fo
