
Fifteen years old. In South Carolina at that time fifteen meant that I could drive a car. I could get a job, too. I could make my own money to go anywhere […]
Fifteen years old. In South Carolina at that time fifteen meant that I could drive a car. I could get a job, too. I could make my own money to go anywhere […]
I don’t know why my mother thought that I would enjoy Summer Science Camp, but it meant two weeks living in the Clemson University dorms so I was game. She dropped me […]
“Without a soundtrack, human interaction is meaningless.” – Chuck Klosterman Breakups are always difficult. It doesn’t matter if one is fifteen of fifty, whether you are the dumper or the dumpee, have been […]
Foreigner is one of those tragic victims of the Keyboard Eighties. Why so many Sixties and Seventies survivors felt the need to change what worked for them escapes me. I blame some […]
Savannah College of Art and Design, 1987: My final project for drawing class is four feet by ten feet on board, a beast of a thing. I get to class very early […]
Ninth grade was a very strange time. I was a member of The Guys In Black Tee Shirts Who Jam, but I wasn’t hardcore enough for Prevo, or prevocational school. I played […]
I didn’t ride my bicycle to school everyday. If Melody had something to do after school or I was running late I took the bus. The characters had changed since I was […]
During the summer after eighth grade we spent a week at Disney World in Florida. My father bought some sort of package deal that included a campsite, park tickets, and three meals […]
I lived within walking distance of the famous Sunset Strip at the tail end of the Hair Metal Eighties. This should have been a huge thrill for me, but I wasn’t a […]
My first bicycle was a sixth birthday present: A blue Montgomery Ward knockoff of a Schwinn Stingray; sissy bar and ape hanger handlebars; a black banana seat with a white racing stripe. […]