Tag Archive | nostalgia
I like living in a small town. There are so many quirks that you don’t get to enjoy anywhere else. Like the one time I went to a community theater to see a play. As everyone was settling into their seats, a man in a bathrobe walked in. I saw him and assumed he was […]
During the summer before I started college, I worked as a laborer for a lawn-cutting service. There were five guys on the crew — including me — and my boss was a guy named Crew Leader Carl. He had hair down to his shoulders and always had a cigarette sticking out the side of his […]
I’m wondering where you are tonight. I’ll tell you where I am. I’m in a smelly cab traveling through downtown, surrounded by a city that’s blinding me with neon and swallowing me whole. I’m leaning against the blotchy, fog-coated window, which feels like a sheet of ice against my flushed face and fevered cheeks. The […]
I gazed out the taxi-cab window, staring with hypnotized eyes at the sparkling lights of downtown. Life, vitality … excitement. And yet I felt no part of it. I felt empty, barren … like the acres of desert wasteland surrounding the city. That’s the problem with this city: I never feel whole. I always feel […]
Substitute-teacher days were always weird. You knew something was off as soon as you walked into class. You could feel it churning in your gut – along with the undercooked corndog you’d eaten for lunch. Some random adult would be standing at the head of the classroom, looking lost and out of place, as if […]
Pretty much every Bob Seger song is him reminiscing about his youth. That’s not to knock Bob Seger. I’m a huge fan. But if you listen to his lyrics, you start to notice a pattern. “Night Moves.” “Like a Rock.” “Main Street.” “Against the Wind.” Each song is about an older man looking back on […]
People often are amazed to learn I can juggle. I’m not great at it. I can juggle three balls pretty well and even do a few tricks. I’m competent with four, but I can’t do any tricks — only straight juggling. Every time I’ve attempted to toss a ball under my leg or behind my […]
Me as a kid walking down the middle of Washoe Lake, when all the water had dried up. Slide Mountain is in the background. This was in the early 1990s. The way the current drought’s shaping up, though, it looks like I may be reliving the experience this summer.
I used to collect pencils, thinking they’d be worth money one day. So now I have no money and bunch of pencils. Probably should have collected stamps.
Apparently, some things never change — even more than 20 years later.