How does it feel for former Timesman Charlie LeDuff to be unemployed and raising his kid—does he miss the "late-night cocktails, accepting prizes, speaking at prestigious universities"? Well!
I find myself staring into the rearview mirror of my career. There was that time in Iraq when I wandered into a city hall that had been taken over by a radical cleric and his followers. It was Good Friday, and in the spirit of brotherhood we prayed together. By the end, the holy man's supporters were chanting with thumbs raised high: "Charlie good! Charlie good!" In some way I was an ambassador—not of the U.S. government, certainly, but at least to the notion that Americans are a decent, brotherly lot.
Also he was recently barred from a "mommy and me" yoga class at noon.