Joseph H. Yongue I & Joseph H. Yongue II
What does a parent do when their child is so depressed that they are ready to give up on everything? A workaholic father, William, has been neglecting his family but is the best property manager the town has ever seen. His son, Albert, is approaching high school graduation and is overwhelmed by his scholastic and social shortcomings. Instead of William telling his seventeen year-old son how he should live, they discuss what to consider when making life decisions. An extended parable with character development.
Discover a new philosophy, through a father and son's conversation, which will explore how to build a great life. Through an extended parable with character development, begin to assess where you are in life, and help determine where you are going in the pursuit of your personal and professional goals. Life may not be fair, but our decisions will have impact for years to come.
Joseph Henry Yongue I, the father, is the Chief Executive Officer of Yongue Architects, PA in Durham, North Carolina. Mr. Yongue has served in the US Army and worked for IBM. Mr. Yongue is a license architect and holds a Master of Business Administration Degree from Iona College of New York.
Joseph Henry Yongue II, the son, graduated from North Carolina Agricultural and Technical State University with a Bachelor of Science Degree in Accounting. He is a proud husband and father.
Perhaps the rotating ceiling fan can explain why the world turns the way it does? Staring at the ceiling in my bedroom has become a normal thing for me, like a hobby. It was once a nighttime activity when sleep escaped me, but it’s the middle of the day and living is escaping me. It’s as if my brain is incapable of generating anything profound, only reminders of how worthless I am.
The kitchen door to the house slowly creaks open. Could it be a burglar expecting the house to be empty at this time of day? Who cares? I have no energy to move from the bed, and my comfort lies in holding my pawn-shop-bought cornet my father gave me years ago. My horn represents what’s left of my confidence. Let the burglar come in here and I will throw my mouthpiece at him.
I wish it was that arrogant jerk, Alex, who was named the trumpet soloist in our school band earlier today. I would probably just shoot him and reclaim what’s left of my life. Some students are popular, others are smart, and some are both, but I am neither. I am a trumpet player with a cornet. Ninety-nine percent of the reason I go to school is to play my horn; the other one percent is to eat lunch. Everybody knew that position meant the world to me and I was robbed. It doesn’t matter anymore; maybe this intruder will do me a favor. The bedroom door begins to open.
William walks into the room. “Albert, what the hell are you doing home?” he demands in his fatherly tone. “You better get back to school before you really make me lose my temper! I do not have enough lunch time for this.”
I stare at my father coldly. “I’m not going.”
“Don’t talk back to me. This is not up for discussion.”
He scans the room and sees his own handgun on my dresser. His tense muscles relax as he slowly marches over to my dresser with a frown on his face. “I know you wouldn’t kill anybody.” The cold silence of the room causes me to free-fall further into my depression. We mutually understand why the gun is there and what I am thinking while at home in the middle of the school day.
