Then there was Nina Perkins. She and I had been classmates since the early days of elementary school, but I didn’t take notice of her in that special way until we were juniors in high school. She had just gotten back from Germany on an exchange program. She came up to me one day right at the beginning of the year wearing a derndl and told me all about how cool Germany was and how much it sucked in the US. I can’t say I was all that into the derndl, but I was well into punk rock by this time – very anti-The Man – so the conversation was right up my alley.Read More »


Then there was Michelle Baker. We were both 13. When I first saw her she was getting snowballed by Johnny Osborne on the Resurrection Trail hike. Johnny was a big hillbilly kid who had an amazing pitching arm. The day before he was snowballing Michelle Baker he was clocking ptarmigans with rocks all up the trail. Now, a ptarmigan is not a smart bird, and will just run away if you throw rocks at it. It takes a while to remember it can fly. Still though, that is a moving target, and Johnny Osborne was clocking them right and left.Read More »


Then there was Ginny Fant. Did I care that she was in fourth grade and I was in sixth? Did I care that she had 11 younger sisters (maybe it was only four) and lived in a shack in the woods? Did I care that she was a mouth breather who always had a smudge of dirt on her nose and a snot plug in one nostril? No I did not, for I was in love with her, and love is blind.Read More »


The first love of my life was Brenda Gantner, and she was perfect. The most perfect girl in the whole kindergarten. She looked like one of those child beauty queens, although that was not a thing yet. She had a cute little button nose and the straightest, silkiest long brown hair. I was deeply smitten.Read More »