He taught me how to separate the wheat thoughts from the chaff, and how to grind the grain into flour with which to make bread to eat while dining on philosophy. He taught me how to see into people’s souls, how to read between the lines between the lines. He taught me courage and self sacrifice, how to recognize the difference between the right thing and the well intentioned wrong thing.
But he also taught me to
never take barbiturates together with hallucinogens, that heroin could be smoked rather than syringed, about the difference between hurting someone to teach them a lesson and hurting them to exact revenge, how to convince
suburban kids that the vitamin B12 you’re selling them is actually
mescaline, how to hide a live grenade in your back yard and how to threaten would be attackers before an attack
A mentor’s work is complicated.