Back in Little League days, the kid next door made the All-star team.  Your son was stationed far out in right field, so afraid of the ball he fielded with his eyes closed.  When your neighbor bragged about his son’s talents, you smiled and nodded, trying your best to show how impressed you were.

When senior prom came along, your best friend’s daughter was the date of the president of the class.  Your overweight, acne-faced 17 year old wasn’t invited by anybody, and sat home and cried all night.  Your friend showed you prom pictures of the lovely couple, and you oohed and ahhhed as if you couldn’t have been happier. Took all the strength you had.

Now it’s college acceptance time.  Your sister’s son has been accepted at Yale and Stanford, while your surly misfit has been rejected by West Wyoming Technical.  He’s already on anti-depressants, and last week threatened to smash your husband over the head with a porcelain lamp.  You’ve taken to going to bed at night with your bedroom door locked.

How do you deal?  Stop acting so fucking upbeat and happy for all the winners out there.   And, of course, as always, communicate with me, E-Man, the biggest loser of all. 

My kid is a gay dental hygienist who flunked out of college in his freshman year and hangs out with a bunch of boys who swish around like girls.  I can’t bear it, and I am fucking not going to pretend that I’m happy for all those people out there whose kids are starting jobs at Goldman Sachs and IBM.  I hope they all get canned!  Damn, feels good just saying it aloud.

Unite, disgruntled parents of the world.  And e-mail me anytime day or night.  That’s E-man@secondbestthemovie.com.  Remember, the only thing worse than being a loser is pretending you’re not.