The indiscreet charm of the Riley male

My son Chris called me from his base of operations in the frozen tundra of upstate New York, where he more or less attends Elmira College. He'd told me that he'd ditched a day or two of classes in order to take a bus to visit his girlfriend in Maine.
Upon his return, one of his professors applauded his hooky-playing.
That's what writers ought to do, the prof told him - get out of academia once in awhile, hit the road and actually experience life.
"In a bus?'' I said. "In Maine?''
It doesn't hurt, I suppose, that his GPA is so close to 4.0 that you'd need an electron microscope to tell the difference.
Still, over two generations now, beginning with me, the Riley men have been getting away with stuff that other people simply don't, and get rewarded for it to boot.
I worry about the balance of karmic justice in the universe going off-kilter and then where will we be. Charm and BS only get you so far in this world, but I guess we owe it ourselves to see just how far down the road it will take us.