Me and the Funky Bunch
There was a curious eighth grader I rode the bus with when I was in seventh grade. There was the most beautiful girl in the eighth grade, who, for whatever reason, liked sitting next to me on those long, bumpy morning rides. And then there was the music. There was […]

I don’t know what you do up here in Northern Indiana. Where I came from, on Friday nights, we used to get in our Dads’ trucks cause they used to build those trucks so that you could run over anything and it wouldn’t hurt them. You know, the old gravel roads, they just ran straight for miles and miles and miles. You never had to turn your car because you were always going in one direction until you wanted to go in another direction and then you had to wait until you came to a road to make a turn and then you’d make the turn and go straight in that direction for a long ways.