"Hard work, God and Carl’s Jr."

The American Dream is alive and well for at least some people.

In 1984, I immigrated to Los Angeles from Honduras. Next month, I will pay off my home in Santa Clarita.

The American Dream is not dead.

My first job upon arrival was working at the salad bar at Carl’s Jr. I spoke no English and earned $3.35 an hour. Little did I know at the time, I’d spend the next 28 years of my life with that company, moving through the ranks of crew person, assistant manager, general manager, district manager and finally director of operations for the Los Angeles market. I finally left to take a senior management position at Blaze Pizza in 2014.

"Hitting Eighty"

Joseph Epstein discusses reaching age 80. I especially liked this:

Better yet, my Northwestern job was without tenure—each year, for 30 years, I was asked if I should like to stay on for another year—so that I never had to attend any faculty meetings and listen to the petty squabbles of my colleagues. If the reigning sin of capitalism is greed, and that of socialism is envy, from their conversation I grasped that that of academic life is resentment.

Link courtesy of Michael Greenspan.