THERE WAS A TIME in my life when I thought I knew everything.
My wife, Audrey, and I were watching a show the other night, and one of the characters was trying to impress someone who'd asked her if she knew about some underground band. Without missing a beat she lies, “Yeah, of course”.
I physically flinched. And straight away Audrey asked if I was okay.
My body had instantly recalled the sensation I'd get when I would lie like that. It's the horrid feeling in the moments after a blatant lie – the feeling of, If they figure this out, I'm toast.
This is something I hadn't done in more than a decade, mind you. It was a time in my life when