I’m a really, really good liar. Seriously, I am. When I was growing up, I learned at home how to do it right, even though the same person who taught me how to do it so well would punish me for lying to him.
From a very early age, I learned to answer the phone when my father was dodging certain phone calls. I was coached in exactly what to say to which people, completely without regard to the truth, of course. I was frequently casually informed of lies so I could be sure to back up one of my father’s lies if it came up in conversation.
For instance, we were one time on the way to visit my father’s boss when he told me to say that my foot was fine if I was asked about it. He had needed an excuse to leave work one day, so he claimed that I had been injured by having a lawnmower blade hit my foot. (He had read a tiny news item about it happening to another boy, so he just transferred the story to me when it was convenient.) Things such as this were common for me.
As I said, though, lying to him was strictly forbidden. If I was caught doing it — and I was, from time to time — I was severely punished.

Throwaway culture can leave us looking for something that lasts
The things you do in life are largely determined by who you decide to be
We all see bits and pieces of reality; not a one of us sees whole picture
Idiots in Congress haven’t heard of ‘law of unintended consequences’
Knowing right choice years later is useless without time machine
You’ve been lied to: Freedom and democracy are different things
Finding joy brings more happiness than the empty pursuit of pleasure
Shouldn’t you believe everything you see posted on social media?
Nature made me like my mother, but my father tried to erase that