My dad hates crowds. He hates traffic and making left-hand turns. He hates big government and small towns. He hated being a lawyer. He hates that he had to move back to a small town and become a small-town lawyer in order to make a living. When he and my mom divorced in 1985 my mom became a graphic designer. Ten years ago my friend Robin and I visited Mount Shasta and I was driving her around town, showing her where I went to high school, the library, the Rite Aid I used to shoplift from, pointed out all the businesses my mom had designed logos for, the office where my dad practiced law for over thirty years.