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Showing posts from July, 2012

A Prodigal Summer

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Some of my best friends are books. My love affair with reading started early on in life. It waxed and waned with the peaks and pits on the twisted road to adolescence. I literally came of age with a book rather than a dirty magazine in hand. I trudged along, burdened with unsightly zits, excess testosterone and awkward moments until one day, I came upon a steep, almost vertical cliff. Realizing I had to leave my backpack behind, I stuffed a sweet memory of a summer kiss in my shirt pocket and the magical whisper of a phrase I’ve read in One Thousand and One Nights in my trousers’ before I spat on the palms of my hands, rubbed them together then hauled my ass and climbed. Halfway to the top, I had a brief glimpse of my insecurities sprawled all over the past. I laughed and howled in English like a coyote in heat and never looked back. I am a man with a cheerful disposition and hundreds of human and book friends. I love them all to varying degrees, but less than a handful of each

Nostalgia: A Drive Around the Block

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