So say you get dragged into West Point kicking and screaming, graduated so-so, and go back to work in dad's leather store. Reasonable scenario? Makes sense so far? And then holy hell war breaks out. And you're somehow good at yelling at guys and convincing them to kill people with knives at the end of their muskets and getting their legs sawed off while holding a leather belt in their mouth that probably came from your dad's store. Still with me?
So then you're in charge of, like, everyone still standing. And all your buddies think you would be a great president. So they elect you and you find out you're not really that great at president, but it's cool cause you can still fall back on the leather shop. Following?
So when you retire from a good dozen or so years of being the most important man in the world, and you think, "Screw working for dad, I'm gonna make my own business." And you do and you're now the boss of like 100 people. And you manage to have it go bankrupt and lose all your money, cause, and I'm just conjecturing here, your business didn't involve blasting southerners with cannons and asking Sherman to burn Atlanta. Have I lost you?
So you're bummed and broke and your doctor comes by and says, "Hey you got throat cancer," cause he's a DICK. What do you then? Well, you write an autobiography to get some cash for your future widow. So, say you do all that. Say you live that kind of life. Say you finish your book and make $450,000 (and that's in old-timey money!) Say you do all that. You gathering this? How do you celebrate like the day after your book is done?
And mom if you don't get the reference about the picture, let me know. But there's a pretty strong chance I'll tell you what movie it's from and you still won't get it.