I blame the Topps baseball card company for my emotional meltdown of late 1987. I'd begun collecting baseball cards the year before, despite my near total ignorance of the sport. To me, the larger issue was card value. It was an investment, I insisted to my incredulous father. If Don Mattingly's… Read full post »

In retrospect, I regret my impatience in dismissing my parents the day they dropped me off at college. Leaving home was a milestone to be savored, the crowning moment of 18 years of my parents' worry and care. The least I could have done was show some gratitude. But… Read full post »

My first bully, I’ll call Jeff. In the fourth grade he was merely bigger than me. By the time we reached high school he had been replaced by other tormentors, but the logical fruition of his early menace appears in a baseball team photo in my senior yearbook:… Read full post »