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To me, back then, this was living large.Of course, it wasn’t. But at twenty, I thought I was sitting pretty. I’d pull up to my apartment in my 2000 Cadillac STS—24” Giovanni rims catching the last of the Kentucky sun, a 15” drop-down TV hanging from the ceiling like some futuristic spaceship screen. Just sitting there. Engine humming. Smoke from a blunt curling slow o …

Summer was in full effect. The country boys were deep in their next harvest, and I was stacking money like never before. I was 20 years old, turning 21, and for the first time in my life, I felt ahead. No more struggling to eat. No more counting dollars at the gas pump. No more holding my breath every time my busted car hit a pothole, praying it wouldn’t break down. For the first time, money …