Chapter 3 about students

At this point, I should explain what happened after I hugged my dear and wise old professor that summer afternoon and promised to keep in touch. I didn't keep in touch with him. In fact, I lost touch with most of the people I knew in college, including my drinking group of friends and the first girl I slept with.After several years of experience after graduation, I have become sophisticated and old-fashioned, and I am no longer as high-spirited as when I left campus and went to Metropolitan New York to contribute to the world with what I have learned. I found that the world wasn't very interested in me.In my early twenties, I was wandering around, renting a house and looking for classified ads, wondering why I bumped into walls everywhere.My dream is to be a famous musician (I play the piano) but I've been hanging out in dark and empty bars for a few years, many chances have gone to nothing, bands are on and off, producers seem to be too busy scouting for new stars, but they just don't think of me , my dream finally changed color.For the first time in my life I tasted failure.

At the same time, I also confronted death for the first time.One of my favorite uncles died of pancreatic cancer at the young age of forty-four. Back then, he taught me how to learn music, how to drive, how to play American football, and teased me about my relationship with girls. A role model for the times, I always think in my heart: I will be like my uncle when I grow up.He was a small but handsome man with a bushy mustache.I was with him for the last year of his life, living downstairs in the same apartment as him.I watched his otherwise robust body weaken and then become swollen.I watched him suffer from the illness night after night, bent over in pain at the dinner table, his hands clasped his abdomen, his eyes closed tightly, and his mouth was twisted and deformed by the pain.O God, he groaned in pain: O Jesus!My aunt, my aunt, and their two young sons could only stand silently, washing the dishes silently, looking away.

It was the most helpless moment of my life. One night in May, my uncle and I were sitting on the balcony of his apartment. It was warm and pleasant with the evening breeze.He stared into the night sky, gritted his teeth, and told me he couldn't see his kids going into the next school year, and asked if I could help take care of them.I begged him not to say such things, and he just looked at me sadly. He passed away a few weeks later. After the funeral, my life changed.I suddenly feel that time has become very precious, like flowing water that never returns, and a moment cannot be missed.I stopped playing music in bars that weren't full, and I stopped hiding in my room writing songs that no one wanted to hear.I went back to school, did a master's degree in journalism, and took the first job I was offered, as a sports reporter.Now I no longer pursue my own fame, but report how those famous athletes became famous.I worked for several newspapers, and I wrote for magazines, and I worked like hell, day and night, with all my heart.I woke up in the morning and brushed my teeth, and then I sat down at the typewriter in the same clothes I hadn't changed in bed the night before.My uncle, who works in a company, hated the tedious work day in and day out, and I was determined not to be like him.

I looked for opportunities everywhere, from New York to Florida, and finally settled in Detroit as a sports columnist for the Detroit Free Press.Detroit's love for sports is never-ending, and with professional football, basketball, baseball, and hockey teams, I've got a lot to live up to.In just a few short years, I not only hosted a sports column, but also wrote books, appeared on radio, and appeared regularly on television, debating billionaire football players and hypocritical college athlete programs.I'm also responsible for the news media frenzy sweeping America today; I'm hot.

I stopped being a shellless snail and started buying property.I bought a house on the hillside, and I changed cars one after another.I invest in stocks and have my own portfolio.I'm like driving in high gear, no matter what I do, I just rush and finish it on time.I was crazy about sports and fitness, and I drove the car like lightning.I make more money than I can count.I met a dark-haired girl named Jenny who loved me even though I was busy and spent more time with her.We got married after dating for seven years, and I went back to work a week after the wedding.I told her, and I told myself, that one day we would have children, something she really hoped for, but that day was lingering.

I feed myself with success because it makes me feel like I can be in charge of things, that I can squeeze every last ounce of pleasure until I die of old age, sickness, and like my uncle, I think I too will never escape it. close. What about Murray?I still think of him occasionally, and think of what he taught me about being a human being and communicating with others, but this always seems out of reach, as if it is something in the next life.Over the years, whenever I saw a letter from Brandeis University, I threw it away, thinking it was another request for donations from the university.Therefore, I don't know about Murray's illness, but the people who can tell me the news have long been forgotten by me. Their phone numbers are probably buried deep in some glove box in the attic.

Things could have stayed the same if I hadn't been scrolling through the channels late one night and a show suddenly pricked my ears