I’m visiting colleges with my eldest son, a high-school senior. He already has a favorite, but favorites can be deceiving. The young man doesn’t realize he might like more than he knows. To teach him, I shared the story of the bar I built in college.

It was January 1993, and I had graduated a semester early from the University of Virginia. I intended to lollygag around while my buddies finished school, then join in the May graduation ceremonies. I shared the plan with my parents. They saw things differently.