It has been said that the world is full of assholes and idiots. What is not known is whether an asshole or an idiot made this assertion. No one has bothered to do the background research on this important human discovery, but it is safe to assume that the person who divided the world thus was probably some type of philosopher; it then follows that the person was likely an asshole, but no idiot can truly say because that would just be assuming too much, and everyone knows what happens when you do that.
Tom Jameson was an asshole. Not your garden variety asshole, mind you. While he wasn't above having loud phone conversations on the bus, or chewing out his relatives for perceived slights over holiday dinners, his assholeness was at a level that would make even Jander Hanson blush. (*footnote: Jander Hanson was a famous baseball player who once had his teammates down a bottle of water each before a game in a show of camaraderie and H20 appreciation. This in itself was not so bad; the kicker was that Hanson had sprinkled laxative into the water bottles, and then guffawed while his teammates tried not to defecate in their pants while standing on first base. Jander Hanson would go on to become the governor of Texas)
In sixth grade, Tom ruined his math teacher's marriage by using a Hardingware Transportfibulator to materialize in Mr. Barrington's bedroom, where he left a pair of Tom's mom's underwear with a note that said, "Me + U = ooh, ooh, ooh." It was crass and aptly juvenile, and it was Tom's way of saying that one did not need to know how to solve for X because someone else had already done so long ago. Tom argued it wasn't worth the aggravation when the fruits of humanity's labor had already rewarded Tom and any kid who was smart enough to have been born with wealthy parents with a Hardingware Transportfibulator. With something as chic, marvelous, and slarmy (*footnote: slarmy: adjective meaning hip, cool, "with it." Came into use once people got tired of saying "socky") as that around, why learn anything at all? You'd have to be an idiot to want to.
Max Durham was an idiot. Unlike Tom Jameson, whom you'll recall was an auteur of his personality type and social class, Max was no more or less an idiot than the other 3 billion idiots running amok around the world. (assholes had tipped the demographic scales in their favor in the early part of the 21st century. It is argued that internet comments sections had something to do with this)
Like most idiots of his day, Max didn't know he was one. From the outside, everything looked to be in order. Wife? Check. Kids? Check. House? Job? Membership in a local community sports club? Check. Check. Check. Thus, Max was no more or less an idiot than anyone else in the world, for a person no longer needed to think too hard in order to attain the status symbols of suburban life. All a person needed to do was to have the debatably good fortune of being born and going through the motions of life as dictated by the previous 2000-plus years of subtle social engineering. The poor classes would tell you differently of course, but no one much cared for the opinions of that anomalous group of savant pariahs and math teachers.
In Max's case, he was good-natured enough, but he was terribly caught up in maintaining his own personal life bubble and simply did not think beyond the needs of himself and his family.
At this point, it is prudent to note that many idiots, just like Max, were not so by choice. They were people who had gotten so caught up in living the busy, bustling, bitchin' lifestyle that was so prevalent at the time, that pursuits such as knowledge were simply not able to fit onto their personal calendars. Plato, Shakespeare, and Asimov had to make room for dinner @ Fred and Amy's, daycare meeting, and TV show season finale. With so much stuff to do on a daily basis, there was much less time to concern oneself with how much stuff there was to know.
On this particular morning, Max Durham started things off as he normally did: awake but not awake. Lumbering into the bathroom like an 18-wheeler in rush-hour traffic, Max washed his hands and face, brushed his teeth, and combed his hair.
After slipping on a button-up shirt and formal pants at a pace that would piss off a glacier, he went down for breakfast while his wife and 2 daughters soundly slept in their beds.