So it goes...

This past weekend was my high school class of 1979's 40th reunion. The event was held in St. Paul and because of recent travels and other commitments, I was unable to attend. A couple good friends from high school did go and kept me posted via text and phone calls on how it was going. There were two events, a social on Friday at a bar on Grand Avenue, and a multi-school social/mixer at The Lexington Restaurant, a place where I worked many hours in order to pay tuition and afford movies, records and all of the other things a 17-year-old finds to use his money for. I've only made it to two reunions in 40 years, my 5 year and my 30th year. Because I am working on a memoir about my years at old Cretin High, it would have been nice to make it to this one and talk the book up a bit. As it turns out, I left any promotion of my writing and my books to my good friends Pat and Peter who did an admirable job of plugging for me, from the sounds of it. My years at Cretin were not bad in...

As part of my ongoing writing goals I try and keep things rolling with regards future projects. Of course, back when I first started writing this wasn't a problem. My goal back then was to write a story about the boundary waters canoe area. Then, the next week, write another. In a weird chain of events, I am now a book and a couple of poetry collections into it and trying to keep the muse chugging along. I am finished with the writing of what I refer to as either the "Portland book" or the "house book," so am starting to look at what's next. I have a few ideas. The first one came to me just the other day and is kind of unique, at least I think it is. I'm thinking of writing another memoir about my years attending an all male, Catholic, military high school in the late 1970's. The reason I think this would be interesting is mainly because when I tell people that as my high school experience, their eyes typically bug out - like I told them I went t...

It seems my wife and a friend were talking about me the in the car the other day on their way to yoga. My wife asked me if my ears were burning because they were discussing how disciplined I was. They weren't saying it in an admirable light, but rather a jealous or disdainful way. It made me wonder why some people use "discipline" to develop habits (which occasionally morph into what I like to call a rut,) and some people don't. I think it comes from a mix of DNA and upbringing. I feel that part of my discipline background can be linked to coming from a big family. While there's lots of chaos in a big family, maybe my way of dealing with it was to build routines via discipline that restored a sense of order for me. For example, if the rest of the house couldn't be clean and organized, at least my room could be. (Though it had it's moments, to be sure.) It was my space, they were my things and it was my sanctuary (read: sanity). I can't he...

I went to my son's high school incoming freshman open house tonight at Waukesha South High School. It was my second time at such an event, because I had gone through the whole spiel with Sarah 3 years ago.  (It seems hard to believe that it was 3 years ago already.) It was the usual informational/logistical meeting followed up by 3000 people cramming into too-small of a hallway to sign up for sports, clubs and activities. It is a necessary evil, but one I don't typically look forward to very much. Sitting there in the auditorium and walking the halls gave me flashbacks to my own high school experience. I remember being that age and all the fears, insecurities and apprehensions that came with it. I remember walking into the hallways of Cretin that first summer to sign up for freshman football. I knew no one, or so it seemed. Very few of my fellow 8th grade football teammates played freshman year, so it was me and a bunch of new kids. It seemed like they all had at least one...