In the 1950s we had neighbors called the M. family, who lived a block or two away from our house. They were the most dysfunctional family I'd ever known. All of them--the father, the mother, the sons, and the daughters--were so envious of everyone else in the neighborhood that they always had something negative to say about them. They always looked grumpy and unhappy, too.

I never saw that family again after I graduated from college. I wonder where they are now, and whether any of them ever found contentment.