A friend of mine has what I think has to be the best job in the world, teaching Latin at a boy's high school in Boston. I keep saying that I want to be him when I grow up, wearing a cardigan with leather elbow patches and smoking some sort of sweet apple tobacco mixture while I listen to a student read Cicero in his native language. His reply is that I will never grow up.
My friend started off his professional life as a teacher, then moved to law. He graduated pretty high in his class at a good school and went to work for a big firm in New York. In his first year he made more than I made as Connecticut's Chief Disciplinary Counsel. After a few years he grew disenchanted with the long hours, demanding partners and all-consuming billing frenzy that is the associates' lot in life and turned to his true love, language. He has never looked back.
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