RobArt Penguin

My father was a cave man. He struggled to find work that satisfied him. When he was about forty, he gave up and seldom left his house for the next forty years. Alcohol helped him in his hermitage. His experience became a cloud that shadowed my work life, adding to a paranoia that I would follow his path. I’ve had multiple careers, changing often to avoid the risk that I made the wrong decision. I didn’t want to be like my father when it came to work. But as much as I’ve tried to be different, I find disturbing similarities. I am a cave man too, of sorts. I just put out a second edition of my first book. It’s a much better version and I’m proud of it. But now, I have to market it and that means leaving my cave. I don’t drink, which makes a successful venture into the light more probable, but the four walls of my personal cave have their appeal. I’m doing it, promoting and advertising, stepping away from the cave a little further each day.