Mostly, we drank beer together. We sat in my dorm room planted on threadbare Goodwill furniture, feet propped on a scuffed coffee table, Marley playing not-so-soft in the background. My roommate Rob, intense, aggressive, always ready to challenge an opinion, pick at a foible, or poke your proper buttons, brought up the idea. “We should … Continue reading And just like that, the game was over
College
Amber Alert
Central Virginia, 1981, I rode shotgun-once-removed. JD sat in the front passenger seat due to his status as the driver’s roommate, I tucked in behind him for our three-hour trip. Scott drove us home for winter break. Scott, or Checks as we called him based on his propensity to bounce them, only stuck around that … Continue reading Amber Alert
Cheesy Western all the way
During my four years in college, among the hundreds of party nights, countless nights ended with a trip to the “T.” On the far side of downtown Lynchburg, just before Fifth Street crosses the James, a divey burger joint clings to the edge of a cliff. Saturday night, between midnight and two, when not passed … Continue reading Cheesy Western all the way
The Drop Off
“Oh!” "What?" "I think I forgot my shoes." Flashback to twenty-five minutes earlier, Sophie walking out of the house barefoot. Me: “Hey, are your shoes in the car?” Eye roll. We just got back on track. Not from the shoe incident (although we did return home to get her shoes) but from a missed turn. … Continue reading The Drop Off
A Final Hoorah
I like the word flurry. Flurries are chaotic but benign, exciting but ultimately of little consequence. Flurry sounds fun; it rhymes with scurry. Scurry might be the most playful word I know. I just ate a Dairy Queen Blizzard, so of course I’m thinking about a McFlurry (MacDonald's knock-off version of a Blizzard). When she … Continue reading A Final Hoorah
Cutting the Strings
Sophie drove the rental car. I don’t think it’s allowed. I told the agent we have three drivers; he didn’t mention any restrictions. He never asked her age, so I never told. Still, I doubt they want a seventeen-year-old driving their car. She leaves at 5:30, Tuesdays and Thursdays. “Text us when you get there, … Continue reading Cutting the Strings
Kids Need to Party
Lynchburg, Virginia, 1983—An intersection: Liberty Baptist College, Lynchburg College, Jerry Falwell and me. Here’s a fun fact: Liberty and Lynchburg have both become universities. I’m not really sure what turns a college into a university. Obviously, I could look it up, but then I’d have nothing but white space where these two sentences now stand. … Continue reading Kids Need to Party
Before & After
Before Are people laughing at my antique laptop? Months ago, as my laptop sat thinking, cursor spinning, trying to open Google Chrome, I finally admitted I needed to buy a new one. I timed it. It took a full minute to wake up the screen and open a browser window. I started pricing laptops. We … Continue reading Before & After
Whitey and the Riff Raff
In 1983, my college dorm room was an important meeting place. Monday through Friday at 3:00, my roommate and four or five of our friends would gather to watch General Hospital. I write this in a way that implies zero involvement from me. But that’s only partially true. I rarely settled in to watch GH, but … Continue reading Whitey and the Riff Raff
The Other Stuff 