Deep in the 50’s McCarthy red scare era, our neighbor and my dad’s friend happened to be a loud, in your face, communist.  Two floors above lived a spooky guy who only communicated with tight lipped nods.  Everyone said he was an undercover FBI agent.  My parents were school teachers, terrified of losing their jobs because of my dad’s association with his friend.   My mom taught at the same elementary...

In high school we were jealous of those lucky enough to be born premature.  Although they were biologically the same age as the rest of us, they were able to get their driver’s license from weeks to months earlier.  A month of waiting in teen time equals about two eternities.  I even wrote a few letters to newspapers and politicians about the gross injustice.  We were given three attempts to pass the driving...

High school is hell, but a high school bully, self-named Danger, contributed more than his share to my hell on earth.  Not just in school.  Everywhere.  Even my after school jobs.  I longed for revenge. After school jobs were easy to get in the 60’s.  Job hunting meant getting three jobs in one day and picking the best.  The winner was a drug store.  A sixteen year old’s dream: being able to gaze and...

In my single digits, my first love was a Bell & Howell 16mm Filmosound projector. Its appearance always meant a good time. The magic light pouring out of the little door in its hard shell home. Film night at summer camp was a sheet stretched between two trees. Mosquitoes flying in the light. And a couple making out behind the sheet. Or in school when the classroom door opened and a Filmosound projector appeared...