I thought about my grandfather the other night.

I'd taken a gig playing percussion for a friend's musical. He offered me $50 when I played in it last year, and I turned down the money after the show. It was some combination of me not putting enough effort into it and knowing he was like me, a young man trying to get people to believe in him. He put the same offer on the table a couple nights ago.

Where my grandfather came into it was about three-quarters through the show, in the middle of a monologue. I thought about what my family members said about him and the downfall of his business, that he had to fold because he did too many favors.

After the show I waited around for my check.