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I think we are intended to find this inspiring:

Here’s the thing: my father traveled a lot. The sad anonymity of hotel rooms blocked him up. He missed the comfort of home, and so, when he returned, he went to the bathroom. This is where he went when he came home, and where he stayed, for a good long time, until he left again on business. He had a real office a few miles away, but at home the bathroom was his office, and, not unlike Lyndon Johnson, he had an open-door policy for us all; in fact, the door was rarely closed.

It mostly seems sad to me, for both this guy’s dad and the rest of the family.

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