I suppose we never know how others live.
As such; growing up young with recording devices and phone taps around the house, in a time before the internet was essential or even (pseudo) broadband was widely available, also all seemed completely normal.
Yet, in hindsight, was perhaps not the most common occurrence. In fact, it is not exactly the common occurrence now, really. The technology is (almost) all there. But It is the context of it. In most house holds, it is the context of these technologies, that is so very different to what I grew up with. At the time - invisible to me. Known, but unknown.
My mother was a professional clairvoyant, who owned a crystal store, after all. My father a stand up comic and musician, who worked as a salesman by day. And golfed on weekends. And that was that.
He was away a lot. As was my mother. But because they both worked. So, there were cooks, and cleaners ,and nanny's, and gardeners peppering my childhood cast. Not extravagance, understand, but only as necessity dictated.
But neither had military, or forensic, leanings in the slightest.
Of course, what I know now explains a lot of what I didn't see then.
And I can't talk about all of that. In fact, my parents still don't talk about a lot of it. It is more like a mix between a murder mystery party, and 20 questions. If no one ever directly answered the questions, and you required evidence first.
If you discover something of a discrepancy, and follow it up. With the right questions. Well, then you have earned the right to know a little more about your own past. It is like a prize.
"The Attorney General will see you in his office now Mr R." came the voice of one of the younger PA's, "this way please".
I didn't much know why I wanted to do the things I wanted to do.
In fact, I didn't really WANT to do them. As far as I knew. I just wanted assistance getting into university.
I remember lots of electronic, but hinged, doors that were far too close together in succession. Some, it seemed, a single meter-airlock barely formed the path, before the next door obstructed. And they locked (constantly). Without clearance you could only move in one direction, as a wrong turn had the door behind you lock.
This passage maze lead to, what I thought, was a very impressive office. However, I was to be told that it was, in fact, only a waiting room.
A waiting room?!.
It is difficult to convey how impressive it is for a "waiting room", when it was so impressive as an office!
After a time I was called through a set of very large, old style, wooden doors.
I continued following one of the PAs. Her leading me into a small town hall of an office, that seemed the size of half a skyscraper floor! I walked past couches, and paintings. Floor to ceiling windows. I was astounded by the tower's view of the city.
This, I was told, was also a waiting room.
While I attempted to process this information, the PA continued. I had missed the beggining of what she said, still dazed at the display. She was saying something in the vein of that "a meeting was running long", but that "The Attorney General would be with me shortly".
So, overwhelmed inside this upscale Gotham replica, I did what any nice, young (state citizenship award recipient) would do faced with this situation. I sat quietly, on one of the multiple couches.
And I waited some more.