1:45 Friday night, no, Saturday morning. I’m sitting in my living room reading, soft jazz on the stereo. It’s warm here in Silicon Valley in the last week of August. Front door is open, letting in whatever breeze the bay has to cool things down a bit. I look up as the light from a car flashes over the open door. The sound of an older BMW SUV pulling into my drive. Moana is home. Moana loves to dance. Me? Not so much. Her...