A series of small failures

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After years as a journalist, and a few more as a slacker, i became an entrepreneur in the surf mecca of the Caribbean. This last year, I had to face facts: My restaurant was failing. I was deeply in debt. I did the unthinkable: I moved “home.” Home is not where i grew up. When they retired, my parents moved from Southern California to Utah. Now i’m a forty-something living my my parents’ basement, in a red state largely ruled by a religion i once was a part of, which i long ago rejected.