Aside from a pounding headache I've had all day, It was a pretty decent day. Talked with da boss and we agreed that the severance offer was in my best interest, and submitted the paperwork. now we wait.

Crystal's boss may be able to sell my car.

Got my orange chicken fix at lunch. Gothy flower stand girl had pigtails today. Ohh, how I shall miss you, gothy flower stand girl.

And I wrote another long-ass post at lunch.

( cut for those who dont need to know that much about my past )

I've been thinking more about The Pit, for some reason. That depressed, brick facade in the center of it all, or nothing. See? even just thinking about it makes me wax disgustingly poetic and phony. But back to the topic at hand.

Its like one of those concrete piles of puke that some well-intentioned but nearsighted urban planner coughed up as a use for a bunch of surplus bricks. The kind of place that would be a boon to skateboarders, if anyone actually skateboarded on the East Coast. but we dont. We dont rollerblade, waterski or surf either. All we do is walk around in pea coats and bitch about the weather and act tough. Well, I take that back. We ARE tough. At least, slightly. if you take the mean of all the assholes on the east coast and compare it to the mean of all the assholes on the West Coast, we're definitely bigger, badder assholes. its the cold. and the bricks. You can only trip on so many sticking-up bricks as you walk down the street trying to look cool before you give up on being cool altogether.

Plus, we don't put friggin cilantro on everything we eat. Queers.

On April 8th, 1994, "an experienced simpleton who obviously would rather be an emasculated, infantile complain-ee" shot up, loaded a shutgun, put it to his chin and pulled the trigger. I was in the pit when I found out. When we all found out. And people cheered. They actually got up and clapped. They didn't realize that this guy was the nearest thing in all of show biz tho embody what they claimed they stood for: honesty, emotion, pain and individuality. All they knew was he was famous, and rich, and therefor he MUST have sold out. And it would be cool if they didn't like him, so they clapped when he died. Thats when I knew that I had outgrown the pit, and that most of the people there with me never would. That was the last time I hung out there.

I have it good, very good, and I'm grateful, but since the age of seven, I've become hateful towards all humans in general. Only because it seems so easy for people to get along that have empathy. Only because I love and feel sorry for people too much, I guess.

Thank you all from the pit of my burning, nauseous stomach for your letters and concern during the past years. I'm too much of an erratic, moody baby! I don't have the passion anymore, and so remember, it's better to burn out than to fade away.

Peace, love, empathy,

Kurt Cobain

When last we left our hero, It was going on Senior year of High School. 1994. Spending a lot of time with Andy and Missy, and a LOT of time with lauren. As in, we couldn't spend a day apart. She wouldn't allow it. Expected me to call constantly. oh, and it was becoming increasingly difficult not to fight. Like, every day wed fight, usually about some minor thing, sometimes less than minor, but it would always end in horrible, hateful screaming matches. I was an asshole and Im not surprised people didn't like being around us. Yet
we still had friends. Dan kelly, his various girlfriends, most of whom were Laurens friends. Smack. Channing a bit, but...

well, funny thing with Channing. We were both, lets say, less than socially skilled in school. once I got a girlfriend we started to drift apart. Still kept in touch for as long as we could. I remember being SO into Operation Ivy i forced everyone I knew to listen to them, including Channing. he didnt take to em. but then I played Green Day for him and he liked them a lot. a year later, he liked Op Ovy as well as many other bands. But we'll get back to Channing.

Didnt see pete Menucci much, as he left BB&N for Winchester Public.

Anyway, Senior year. No, rewind! Spring, 94. Junior year. Mono finally passes and Andy and I can enter the realm of the living again. See, Andy had mono WAY worse than me. he was in the hospital. Missy, she was sick, like, a week. okay, so maybe I exaggerate but not by much. So the four of us are together again. Andy and I, for some reason and somehow, get permission to stay out WAY later than we should have. no, I take it back, I think I stayed over his house and se snuck out. See, there was this thing in Harvard Square, I don't remember which one of us heard about it, but it was probably Andy. It was called The Rocky Horror Picture Show. All we knew was it was funny, weird, sexy, and THE thing to do. But it was at midnight. There was no WAY my parents would be up for that.

Anyway, Andy and I go. Its kind of foggy, since we were fighting to stay awake through the second half. But I remember this guy named, Chris i think, dressed in this tux with a hunchback, working the crowd before we were let in. And this blonde guy named Acid that was psyching everyone up. Then we went in and they did a song from the little Shop Of Horrors, The Dentist song. it was really clever and funny and id never thought of, like, performing a song form a movie, in a theater like that. These guys werent professionals, they just.. DID this every week. I remember the lead actress. She was blonde, VERY stacked (no, i mean VERY... think of a file cabinet with the top drawer open) and very pretty. I remember thinking she looked like a doll, her skin was so smooth. Expressive eyes. And I remember the lead actor, skinny guy, glasses (yeah yeah i know, they ALl wear glasses). And thats all I really remember.

But I liked it enough that I had the idea of doing a profile of this guy I met there for my junior English project. See, every Junior had to write a 10 page profile on someone interesting, who wasn't a relative or family friend. I was having a lot of trouble picking someone, I wasn't exactly thrilled about having to ask a total stranger to write about them. I mentioned this guy to my teacher and he thought it would be a good idea. SO i somehow convinced my dad to take me and andy and pick me up when it was over. well, an hour or so before it was over. The guy was amicable enough the first night I met him, but this night he didn't feel like answering any questions. he game me his phone number though.


i called, he wasn't home. I called, he wasn't available. i called, finally he was there. I could barely hear him though, above the noise in the background. He was less than forthcoming with any sort of information. Wouldn't even give me his last name. But I had a profile top write. So what did I do? Well, I could have cheated and made stuff up, and in hindsight it would have been the way to go. but I tried to make do with what I had and focused more on the show than the person. my teacher told me it was one of the finest pieces of writing he had read in a long time, but it wasn't a profile, so I got an F. No makeup, no do over, thats it. I told him that I might as well have not bothered to write anything, but he explained the difference between an F and a 0 to me. Gee, thanks. Asshole.

And since it was 75% of the semester, that D- looked REAL good on the college transcript. Asshole.

But the year was behind me, the SATs were behind me, and it was time to think about schools. But I had summer first. And summer meant hanging out. Mostly in harvard Square. shopped days, hung out in the pit nights. See, the pit was an interesting thing. its just this depressed area (literally and figuratively) surrounding the entrance to the subway in Harvard Square. Harvard 'd expect from a college area. Think St Marks Place in NYC or just about any corner in San Fran. (Thats what it USED to be like. but more on that another time). The Pit was the area that all the punks hung out in. It was a little late for the skinheads and too early for the goths. most of them were homeless, either by choice or not, but there were others like me who just hung out because they had friends there. Contrary to popular belief, the homeless kids didn't look down on us, or give us a hard time because we could go to a warm house at the end of the night. If we were only there because we wanted to be cool and say we had homeless friends, then they would have hated us and probably kicked the crap out of us too, and they would have been justified. But we were there for the same reason they were; to hang out, kill time, talk and listen to music. So it was all good.

I had this 12 year old piece of crap boom box that I used to drag out there, and wed listen to tapes. Someone had a spuds mckenzie stuffed animal that we punked out and made our mascot. One night Andy and I had the bright idea to bring a huge sheet of cardboard and lay it out on the bricks and everyone who passed through wrote something on it. i think he's still got it tucked away somewhere. I hope he does. One night we were throwing Spam around.. no, really. Thats not an expression. Anyway a chunk hit this less than friendly rockabilly kid with shitkickers on and he came over to start shit. I SHOULD have stood up to him and taken a smack, but I hit behind Andy because hes the size of a house.

So the summer eventually came to an end, as they all do, and it was back to school. I got out of a lot of stuff that year since I had so many credits: no more art requirement, though I took an independent study with keto in design. No more sports, though I still took skiing in the winter. I almost made all-league. Missed it by THAT much. English, calc, etc etc. lots of free time.

That October I started looking at campuses. I narrowed it down to 4 schools: Pratt in Brooklyn, Columbus College of Art & Design in Ohio, Ringling School of Design in Sarasota Fl and Mass College of Art as my backup. I chose the other three because they were the only ones other than Art Center I could find that had any sort of computer animation programs whatsoever. How times have changed, huh? My dad and I flew down to florida first and saw ringling. we spent the next day in florida because I always wanted to go. we saw disney, epcott, mgm and universal in one day. thats how my dad takes vacatons. Thanks, dad.

Then we drove to NYC with my mom and saw Pratt. We didnt go to Ohio. But for some reason, i chose them anyway. They seemed to have the best looking student work i guess, i dont know why i chose them. Oh yeah, so I got into all four schools anyway. but I chose Ohio. yup.

I think thats enough for now. next time, a little place called Liberty...

Its been awhile since I wrote an installment in the Story of me, hasn't it? Well Lisa Loeb was on a rerun of Saturday Night Live, and now Im listening to the Cranberries, and its taking me back. So you're all going to have to suffer and share my shmaltzy, nostalgic mood.

Where did we leave off? I believe it was 1993, end of Sophmore year. I was in a relationship with lauren and had just come back from Colorado with Abby. That seemed to be the last straw, and lauren just got more and more hostile to the notion of me having friendships with girls, especially Abby. She was a very bitter, insecure person. I hated it and resented it then, but now I feel bad for her because thats a tough trait to shake and its going to cause her problems for a long time.

ANYway, sophmore year ended with little event. The summer passed. I was working for my dad. We had an.. odd working arrangement. No set schedule. he'd wake me up and tell me I had to work that day. Id mostly clean and stock shelves and do other tasks that the peons getting quite a bit more than minimum wage wouldn't do. but I got good at making a mean steak & cheese and I was a maniac on the register too. A store that small, everyone did everything. and i wasn't privileged: despite not paying taxes I got paid less than the rest of the kids working there and I was worked harder. I didn't resent it, i knew what he was doing.

We went to Hampton again with daniel, but things were different this time: namely, Craig brought his girlfriend, and I wasn't allowed to go without mine. We all had a good time but we also knew this would be our last trip. The melancholy was palpable. No sign of Brandy or Renee, either.

Junior year was slightly different from other years. We got more flexibility in choosing classes, and everyone was starting to talk about COLLEGE. it was a prep school after all, the most expensive and arguably best school in massachusetts. You went to college, period. it was the rockiest year for me, too.

I took P.E> in the fall instead of an organized sport because I didnt feel like playing lacrosse or soccer. My soccer years were past. P.E. was during a free period during the day so we got out earlier at night but it was NOT easier. We were coached by Henri Andre, a sadistic Belgian ex-soccer coach. He liked adminstering something called "Da Coopah Tezt". He claimed it was based on government guidelines for adolescent fitness but I think it was a carryover from the Inquisition. "Run one mile, 100 situp, 100 pushup, I time you GO!" et cetera. We wrestled, we rowed, we ran, we worked our asses off. good time.

Bolstered by my A in Geomertry Sophmore year, i was placed in advanced Pre-cal. no one told me that Calculus was basically algebra with thorns. I sucked supremely but fought it out. English class was awesome, i took satire. one Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest, Clockwork Orange, Canterbury Tales, Gullivers Travels, Johnathan Swift, and so on. It kicked ass.

I was hanging out with melissa Carey a lot, because Lauren got along with her well. And i was hanging out with Andy a lot. So why not... we all ended up in The Pit one night and sparks were practically visible between them. We took the bus home and melissa got off and forgot her keys. we sent andy after her with them and admonished him to "kiss her, you fool!" which he did, and from then on they were inseperable. the four of us were practically inseparable. Wed hang ing the pit and talk about politics and do nothing in that way that kids do when they think they'll change the world some day. We hung out at Andy's house, mostly just laying in his waterbed and listening to Op Ivy and the cranberries and making out in that innocently flirtatious way that kids do when they think they're liberated.

That spring, Andy came down with a REALLY bad case of mono, as in he was hospitalized and put on an IV. a few weeks alter melissa and I came down with it too.

Mono sucks.

But it has perks. I was on 3 a day ;)

I missed out on about 4 weeks of school, which sucked. But i stayed on top of the homework.The biggest disappointment was not being in english class for Clockwork Orange, because I was the only one who understood the damn thing, being in 3rd year Russian.

No, I take it back, the other thing that sucked was taking the SATs with Mono. it was the first time I had been out of the house in about a month and i felt like shit. I got a 1390 on the PSATs so I thought the SATs would be a breeze but I dropped to a 1320. I really wasn't dying to retake them though, because I was going to art school anyway and a 1320 wasn't so bad, i was told. The last page of the test said SCRATCH PAPER, so i did. I don't think it helped, though.

Like I said, I was a junior in high school, so i was insane for Pink Floyd. Got 3rd row tickets to their concert, parents wouldn't let me go. i still hate them for that. lauren went with her cousin. got me a tshirt. My parents promised I could go next time they toured. gee, thanks assholes. Im still waiting.

Skiing that winter, of course. varsity.almost tried out for the all-state team but missed the deadline. i also got pretty damn good at the Killer Instinct machine in the lodge. That spring, Keto, my ski coach and design teacher convinced me to take sailing, which he also coached. It was GREAT. We went to COmmunity Boating on the Charles River every afternoon and sailed mostly 2-man Mercuries but also the occasional 420, FJ, Tech Dingy or a 1-man Laser. I picked it up quick, like skiing, and my upper body strength was a benefit. I was teamed up with Greg Raiz, a senior, and we kicked ass. There was this other kid, a sophomore, named Thatcher Tiffany, who was just a phenom. Last I heard he had a full scholarship to Yale for sailing. (?) Best of all,he wasn't just good, he was a good teammate. he would bow past all the other boats and wait at the finish line for us. he'd let me and Greg win (hey, we won on our own merits a few times, too!) then he'd luff his sails and stop the other boats dead in the water and cruise in... if you got #1 and #2 you clinched the race, the way points went. Those rare but not so rare occasions wed beat him wed do the same thing.

We went to the new england championships easily that year, in Connecticut. It was a miserable, cold, rainy day. I think we took 2nd. hard to remember. i remember Abby falling asleep on my shoulder on the ride home, and realizing I loved he and I wish I hadn't screwed things up so badly. That was the last time we really spent any time together.


"I Still Do"

I'm not ready for this,
Though I thought I would be.
I can't see the future,
Though I thought I could see.

I don't want to leave you,
Even though I have to.
I don't want to love you.
Oh, I still do.

Need some time to find myself.
I wanna live within.

Can I go my own way?
Can I pray my own way?
I don't want to leave you.
Oh, I need you.

Am I ready for this?
Did I think I would be?
Can I see the future?
No, I can't see.

I don't want to leave you,
Even though I have to.
I don't want to love you.
Oh, I still do.

Ah, la la da da da.
Ah, I still do.

Junior year passed by in a blur.. I had a girlfriend, my first, and it was serious. I felt like Id jumped right from being a virgin to being married. but I didnt have a problem with it, she was cool, we did stuff together (a LOT of stuff) her parents were fun and school was.. school. My grades didnt drop much because i never concentrated on homework all that much in the first place.

Lauren was about 5'8", long curly brown hair, glasses. Picture Kennedy, from MTV and youre close enough. She was a year younger than me, but in the same grade, lived in England for about 6 years, went to Arlington high, didnt have a job. She had had a couple boyfriends before. She lived in a big house on a hill that looked like the bates mansion. her dad was a tall, slender, stern looking, balding man with a deep voice. CEO by day, $2000 suits and power lunches, tank top and BBQ ribs by evening. very down to earth and practical. Her mom was.... her mom would take too long to describe. just imagine Sharon Osbourne and youve got it.

My parents always had slight reservations with lauren, egotist I was figured they were just jealous I finally had someone in my life. We had a decent relationship, bickered once in awhile but that was natural. we saw each other every day, even if i was just driving over to say hi.

I took design for the second year in a row at school, and the teacher was good at choosing different projects for us, or holding me to a higher standard if it was one id done before. I got my only A+ in 4 years that year, in design. math was another story: I had gotten an A- in Geomery Sophmore year so I was placed in the advanced-advanced precalc class. I may have been good at geometry but I sucked ass at algebra and precalc was no walk in the park. I chose Satire for my English elective and ate it up. Johnathan Swift, Canterbury tales, One Flew over The Cuckoos nest, Clockwork Orange, and others I cant recall.

I took up skiing come winter. The year before, I finally convinced my parents to let me go on the class ski trip, as long as I promised to take a class. The trip was 3 days at Sugarloaf, the biggest mountain in maine and quite a drive. I took the silly class, learned how to buckle my boots, learned how to snowplow and went on my way. David Sacerdote took me to the top of the mountain and we tried a few mediocre trails, but I got ahead and took a wrong turn and ended up on a black diamond. Satan's Scrotum I think it was called. Needless to say my skills were not up to par and I made it to the bottom 2 hours later by sliding on my ass. I was not deterred. I spent the rest of the day practicing on lower slopes.
I was, however, deterred from day 2 and 3, when the thermometer hit -30. Thats not including the wind chill. we stayed in and did.. not much. I remember I was stuck with Jeff Levy as my roommate. Jeff was the drug dealer of our grade, and also the most prominent drug user. I didnt know any of this, bless my ignorant heart. all I knew was he ate whole pies at 3 AM and fell into an unshakable sleep with the Lemonheads on his headphones, full blast. Jeff also hooked up with Regan Porcelli, the cutest, nicest, coolest, bustiest, blondest girl at school, whom i had had a crush on since 7th grade when she walked into Math class 2 minutes late and sat next to me. I didnt like Jeff much.

A month or so after that, I loved skiing so much I got my mom to take me to Nashoba Valley one day and practice more. Why am I mentioning all of this? Because Junior year, with about 10 hours of snow-time under my belt, i tried out for the ski team and made varsity. Skiing was one of the few things I really took to instantly and was good at. and I loved it.

Lauren and I went skiing often, with her parents. Her uncle even had a cabin up at Mt. Snow. I did alright racing, I loved giant slalom, even though Nashoba wasnt the biggest of mountains (or hills) and we spent more time on the bus than actually skiing every day. but we had Fridays off because the rich kids would always go to aspen or whatever with their parents on the weekends and the coach figured that was better than practice. Abby Gregor and I had plenty of time to become friends on and off the bus. She was like the sister I never had.

When I started I got a $25 pair of used-used-rentals, Rossignols, 170s. I quickly outgrew their usefulness and my mom got me a new pair of heads from MVP sports, 185s. Bindings too. Come February, I was taking the last run of the day in mt Snow with lauren and did something stupid and took a tumble. one ski flew off, the other stayed on my foot, and cracked in half. So in three months I was on my third pair, but they would be the last I needed. K2s, parabolic, 207's with a dampening panel in the center. they were layered-core, one of the last before skis were all capped and took the fun out of skiing with those damn insane sidecuts. They were monsters. I slapped some side-release Look bindings on and got a new pair of boots too, and I was ready to rock.

March break rolled around, and Abby invited me to COLORADO with her family.. for a WEEK! I couldn't believe it. we stayed at keystone and skied there every day. It took me awhile to get used to it though.. what the hell is all this white powdery stuff? and why is there 2 new feet of it every day? Wheres all the ice? Moguls the size of Volkwagons were interesting too. We spent a day at Vail, which was.. mind blowing. And a day as Arapahoe basin, which is soft of the Vail for the jeans-and-bandanna crowd, and the home of the only two triple-black-diamond in North America. I skied both, of course.

We spent our last night in the house of some family freinds.. Abby's family, not mine. Their son was a year younger than me which made her Abbys age and was a swimmer. they had an indoor lap pool. Their daughter was a year older, named Sarah, and liked Blues Traveller. Tall, redhead. I got a weird vibe from her, but only for 15 minutes, then she left to go babysit. They also had 3 ferrets.

We had a nice dinner, talked about the trip, went swimming. At once point i was chased by swimming ferrets. I felt like Jimmy Carter. 'Twas fun, though.

Abby, myself and the sun.. cant remember his name.. stayed up awfully late just talking. Sarah came home at some point and joined in. Abby and whatshisname went to bed but sarah and I stayed up. The weird vibe continued. Then she kissed me. Vibe confirmed, identified, and contained. Roger. Kissed her back, a couple times. She tasted like lobster bisque. That was about it, then we went to bed and I was back up 2 hours later to go home. we exchanged numbers, never used them.

I came home a week later to a very pissed Lauren. It seems I hadn't called every day to check in on her and she wasn't thrilled. I was unaware I was on a leach that long but.. damage done. She held a grudge against Abby for a LONG time... and oh yeah, I couldn't be friends with her any more. She was just one of the many, many females I was discouraged from being friendly with during our relationship.

Things had begun a long LONG slide downhill...


Juliana Hatfield---Spin The Bottle

He's a movie star, only drives rented cars.
Met him in a bar, said "I know who you are."
Took him to my party as the games were starting.
Bottle's on the ground, are you ready now?
When it comes to me, I'm gonna be ready.
It's my turn in a minute, gonna put my message in it.
Five minutes in the closet with you.

He's in a bunch of movies, really stupid movies.
It's not entirely his fault, he can't control it all.
I am not afraid, I can hardly wait.
Truth or dare, I don't care, tell the truth I dare you.

When it comes around, when it comes around,
When it comes around, when it comes around. 
Do you feel it too, what I feel for you?
If it was just us, would you do what I do?
Doo-doo-doo-doo. Doo-doo-doo-doo.
Doo-doo-doo-doo. Doo-doo-doo-doo.

Everybody's watching. Everybody's looking.
She's such a sucker. He don't want to fuck her.
He is gonnna kiss me, if he doesn't miss me.
I am ready for it now. Already on the ground.
Five minutes in the closet with you.
Oooh! Five minutes in the closet with you.

Spin it 'round again
Spin it 'round again
Spin it 'round again
Spin it 'round again...

1993. I'm just ready to start my Junior year. I've been to my first concert, and my second concert and first riot. I still haven't kissed a girl. I am fully entrenched in the grunge scene though, jeans Chuck Taylors and flannel shirts the norm. Oh, and I wear a baseball cap constantly. Usually my Giants hat but sometimes my Celtics hat, or my Converse hat or MAYBE my Michigan hat. The Saturday game has disbanded, though Im spending a lot of my free time hanging out in harvard Square (yes, The Pit) with Andy. I work part time in my dad's store. No, its not as easy as it sounds.

School is going as school does. Lots of work, some good, some bad. I'm doing well in Satire and Design, not so good in pre-calc. Actually, horribly in pre-calc. September ticks away. Andy & I are in the pit and a few of his friends from Arlington High show up. One was named Moose, a tall, lanky blonde kid with a penchant for accidents. Sweet kid though. Another was this girl named Lauren. She was a little flirty, a lot interesting.. heck, she just moved back here from 8 years or so in England. She just seemed slightly more well travelled than the rest of us. She also seemed to have an interest in me.

I mentioned I was going to Au Bon Pain for tea, she'd follow. I mentioned I was going to Newbury Comics, she'd follow. Good Lord, I bought a Stone Temple Pilots album because she said she liked them.

Couple nights later the group of us went out again, this time into Boston, just for the heck of it. We hung around Quincy market for awhile, then walked through the financial district, which is all but abandoned after 6. We hung out in front of a bank messing with the guard for a long time. We were kids. He stood in front of the window of a store, staring at those stereograms, you know, where you cross your eyes and see something? She stepped right in front of me, and my arms instinctively went around her. Of course I pulled them away a moment later, blushing furiously. A minute later she kissed me, just like that. Hmm, interesting. An hour later, waiting for the train, she kissed me again, and this time i was prescient enough to return it, albeit a second late but it was enough.

I remember a day or two later, hanging out at the water tower with andy, talking about her. Little did I know, she was coming on to him, and little did he know, she was coming on to me. Looking back, it was an awfully amusing conversation.

Well, I guess she chose me, because we started going out. October 1st, we went to the Hard Rock Cafe. Standing outside waiting for my mom to pick us up, we made out. That was fun. I remember later that night, my mom voicing her opinions of Lauren. She didnt know how serious we were or anything, yet she had a bad impression of her from the start. Funny how those things are.

I'll spare you the details. We went out for a long time. Things were cool for awhile. You know, its always cool when things are fresh and you have things to discover and ask and talk about. Her parents were extremely cool. They lived in a big house in Arlington that looked like the Bates mansion. Her mom was a cordon bleu chef, her dad a CEO of a tech company that Daniel's dad worked at, cooincidentally enough. They had a dog named Peppi. They had an ugly-ass Previa. She went to Arlington High. We lost our virginity early that December. She had just turned 16, I was about to turn 17. It was a cold, wet, snowy rainy night. We were in my room in the attic. I remember walking her to the bus stop afterwards, which was no small feat, it was about 2 miles through wet slushy snow almost knee deep. Arlington sucked at plowing. After she left I bumped into a girl I went to school with, Aldis Russell. She was a senior, and she was cute. She gave me a ride home in her Volvo, which was nice.

At school, I was becoming friends with three people: Abby Gregor, Melissa Carrey and Sahar Aminipour. Melissa and I.. jeez, I dont know how we became friends. She was Dating Dan Kelly, but that was neither here nor there. We were semi friends, through shared interests, and I think she really latched onto me after she broke up with Dan. She was a year behind me but didnt act like it. very sweet, soft spoken but with a mischievous smirk and intelligence. I met Abby in Skiing practice, she was a year behind me too. She was a tiny thing, 5 foot if she was lucky, slight build, glasses, blonde, blue eyes, ski slope nose, classic aryan features. Abby GREGOR, after all. Very sweet and charming and shy, like I was. Sahar was more of Abbys friend but became mine too. She was even smaller than Abby at 4'9", dark skin, long black hair, she was... Pakistani I think. And of course, there was still Dan, Daniel, Smack, peter Menucci, and a couple others. i wasn't a popular kid though, mostly I had a few close friends and everyone else thought i was a schmuck. Well, so did my friends, but they were schmucks too so it was okay.

That winter, we dragged Melissa to the pit with us. She and Andy got along like Sonny and Cher right from the start. Taking the bus home, we took a different one because it stopped by Melissa AND Andys house, very convenient. Melissa got off and we noticed she had forgotten her keys. we went andy after her with them and told him to kiss her, you idiot! he gave her the keys and very shyly, awkwardly kissed her, and the whole bus applauded. It was one of those moments.

After that, the four of us were pretty damn close. Too close, come Spring. But first... Colorado!

Dont Cry

Talk to me softly
There's something in your eyes
Don't hang your head in sorrow
And please don't cry
I know how you feel inside I've
I've been there before
Somethin's changin' inside you baby
And don't you know

Don't you cry tonight
I still love you
Don't you cry tonight
Don't you cry tonight
There's a heaven above you baby
And don't you cry tonight

Give me a whisper
And give me a sigh
Give me a kiss before you tell me goodbye
Don't you take it so hard now
And please don't take it so bad
I'll still be thinking of you
And the times we had ... baby

And don't you cry tonight
Don't you cry tomight
Don't you cry tonight
There's a heaven above you baby
And don't you cry tonight

And please remember that I never lied
And please remember
How I felt inside now honey
You gotta make it your own way
But you'll be alright now sugar
You'll feel better tomorrow
Come the morning light now baby

And don't you cry tonight
An don't you cry tonight
An don't you cry tonight
There's a heaven above you baby
And don't you cry
Don't you ever cry
Don't you cry tonight
Baby maybe someday
Don't you cry
Don't you ever cry
Don't you cry
Tonight

While up at Hampton Beach, we caught word that this band Green Day was going to be doing a concert at the Hatch Shell. Thats a big opera house type structure, outdoors, on the banks of the charles river. nice place. I used to go see free movies there on friday nights in the summe.r its also where the boston pops performs its 4th of July concert.

Anyway we decided we had to go.. it was FREE! It was the saturday after we got back. So we gathered some friends.. quite a few actually... Daniel, Channing, and I, as well as a whole bunch of others but for some reason who they were escapes me.. showed up nice and early to get a spot, about noon. I think it was a 6PM show or something. Andy Harris was already there when we got there, camped out on a blanket playing some card game called Magic: The Gathering. We all spread out our blankets and hung out and waited and had a GREAT time picnicking and talking to the rest of the fans.

Finally 7:00 rolls around and Green day goes on. by there time, the cops estimated there were 20,000 kids on the Esplanade, a record crowd. we spilled out onto the streets. Green day played 4 or 5 songs then got pissy with the sound system, and started bitching at the crowd, so the crowd started throwing sod at them... they stormed off, and about 30 cops took the stage, in riot gear, standing in a line, calmly, waiting for the crowd to disperse.

Like That was going to happen.

More sod got thrown. Then bottles. Then rocks. The next thing I know, what crowd was left is surging in our direction, literally a stampede. Followed by ranks of cops, with billy clubs. They started beating kids left & right. Andy got pinned against a steel barricade, the cops didnt care. they beat him until he could climb over it, which, ironically, would have been easier had they not been beating him.

We couldnt leave though because we couldnt find daniel, and we were worried about him. I had my dads 3-pound cellular phone just inc ase, and we frantically called people for an hour while dodging cops. We eventually found out he was at home, comfy, watching tv. He left as soon as the concert ended.

So we walked to the T and hopped the red line to Harvard Square, where we hung out in the pit for awhile, then headed home. It was an... exciting end to the summer.


I Was There
Green Day

Looking back upon my life
And the places that I've been
Pictures, faces, girls I've loved
I try to remember when
Faded memories on the wall
Some names I have forgotten
But each one is a memory I
Look back on so often.

I look into the past
I want to make it last
I was there

I look into the past
I want to make it last
I was there

Looking back what I have done
There's lots more life to live
At times I feel overwhelmed
I question what I can give
But I don't let it get me down
Or cause me too much sorrow
There's no doubt about who I am
I always have tomorrow

I look into the past
I want to make it last
I was there

I look into the past
I want to make it last
I was there

The Judi thing blew over quite quickly.. a couple more pensive phone conversations after the moved back to Florida, and we just.. drifted.... apart. It was for the best, of course.

Another thing helped me get over it: three weeks later I was headed back to Hampton! Sun, fun, arcades, fried dough, and Renee. Brandis family went every year, why wouldnt she be there? This time, I wasnt going to be an idiot. I have the benefit of hindsight. i realized how dumb id been and what an opportunity Id missed, and this year I would surprise her...

But before that, Andy and I had a concert to go to. The Mighty Mighty Bosstones were playing at Avalon. They were an up-and-coming ska band, from boston. They had a brief bit of fame when they appeared in a Converse Commercial and I had one of their CDs. I had never been to a concert before, I dont think Andy had been either. So, just to be safe, we got there 3 hours early, or something ridiculous like that. We were first in line, of course. And bored as hell for the first 2 hours. But a couple of the band members came out for a smoke and talked to us and signed my tshirt. I think I've still got that tshirt somewhere at my parents house.

So we all go in, and this band called The Goats opened up. they were pretty good. next was a band called Hum. They did a song about missing a train to mars and counting stars. I had no idea OTHER bands played at concerts, it was like getting two shows for free! Finally,the Bosstones show up. We force our way to the front, which became easier once they started playing and the crowd was bouncing like crazy. The club held about 2000 people and it was to capacity, wall to wall people.

Odd thing, there were no security guards, and no barricades separating us from the stage. This was just some unknown band from boston, they didn't expect such a crowd.. so we got pushed right up against the stage for most of the show... people were moshing, people were crowd surfing... it looked like fun, so I climbed up on stage and moshed with Dickie for a few bars, then leapt off onto the crowd. major rush. Did that two or three times. It got tiring though, being shoved from all sides AND getting landed on ever minute or two, not to mention the shoes and fists and spikes... to this day I haven't been in a wilder pit, and that includes the ducky boys, frenzal rhomb, sepultura, marylin manson and the Dropkicks. Things tooka decidedly unhappy turn when someone stage dove and kicked me in the face with his Doc Martens. but hey, all part of the show! My ears rung for 3 days after that, and the bruises lasted even longer. One of the best shows Ive ever been to.

But on to Hampton...
The first week went great- craig, daniel, jon & I hit the beach and the boardwalk, played a LOT of the X-men arcade game (It was 4-player.. I always picked nightcrawler) and did the stuff boys do. Jon bought some used CDs at a record store on the boardwalk, three bands Id never heard of.. NOFX, Rancid and Green Day. NOFX and Rancid sucked.. just a bunch of yelling.. that wasn't music! But Green Day was cool and we listened to them most of the week, along with the Bosstones CD id brought.

Week 2, Brandis family showed up, and so did Brandi... she said that Renee "said to say hi". She wasn't coming up.

Well, the rest of that week kinda sucked.. craig split off with Brandi, Jon left halfway through the second week, leaving me to play cribbage with daniel all week. I recall one night towards the end, i was sitting on the beach after sunset, as the waves rose around me, wondering what the hell was wrong with me, why i was so damn shy i couldn't talk to girls, and wishing the tine would come in and swallow me up. At some point i got tired of self pity, or just got chilly, and went to bed.

Things were about to change though.. a lot. Junior year was coming up fast, and what a year it would be.

Sophomore year was pretty uneventful except for a few things. That fall, I was car pooling with Peter Menucci, whom I knew since 7th grade. he lived in neighboring Winchester. We'd ride bikes together a lot. And fish sometimes. his dad would pick us up in the morning, and my mom would take us home. Well, that fall he was in soccer practice late, and I wasn't because I was in the lame intramural league and he had actual talent. So I started hanging out in the computer lab. And I started using the Macs, because they had better games than the PCs and you didn't have to, like TYPE stuff to get to them. cd:\ games? why cant I just click?

Well, I became a bit of a phenom in short order, even fixing one of the computers in the school paper when it jammed. I really didn't know what I was doing, but I bluffed well, and figures it out, and I ended up working for the school paper, which I never would have considered otherwise.

The other thing that happened that year was I took design class, with Mr Keto. Mr Keto was the most pragmatic human being I ever met, and also cared deeply for my education. he would eventually be the most influential teacher I ever had, as well as my advisor, ski coach and sailing coach.

Yeah, skiing. that was the other thing that year: I went skiing for the very first time. My mom FINALLY convinced my dad I wouldn't kill myself, and i got to go on the sophomore ski trip to Sugarloaf If i promised to take a class, which I did. I fumbled a bit for the rest of the day, and didn't really learn much other than how to put the skis ON. it didn't help when David Sacerdote took me to the summit and I took a wrong turn and wound up on Satan's Scrotum or some other equally hellish double black diamond.

But back to the computer. That christmas, the only thing I wanted was a computer. and not ANY computer, one of those computers you can CLICK.. a Mac, I think they're called. yeah that must be it. So my parents bought me one: A Macintosh LC, with a huge 12" screen (oooh, 256 colors!), 4 MB or RAM and 11 blistering MHz. That spring, I got a modem, and it came with CompuServe. I tried it, but it sucked. But there was something else that was just coming out, called America Online. it was cheaper than compuserve at only $8.00 an hour and it had pretty graphics, where Compuserve was terminal-based. so I signed up for that.

I skipped the sophomore semi. why should i go? I didn't have a date, I didn't dance.. I was just a lame, sexually impaired kid who would probably grow up a recluse hacker.. no wait, cant really be a hacker on a Mac, either. But on America online, one could become a personality easily, especially if one was gregarious enough. see, there were only two teen chat rooms back in the day.. 3 on really busy friday nights. so everyone knew everyone, and everyone loved Alex, or should I say Xel. See I tried signing up as Alex, but that was taken. So I tried Lex, but that was taken. So I tried it backwards, and what do you know, it wasn't taken. so my address was xel@aol.com. easy to remember.

That summer, I spent doing two things mainly: hanging out in Harvard Square with Andy Harris, and talking on AOL, to one person in particular: Judi Lowe.

Judi was from Florida, but funny coincidence, she grew up in Everett, right next to Medford. She even remembered my dads store. We ran up hundreds of dollars of long distance calls a month, god bless my parents for not saying anything. i think they were more worried about my emotional development than I was. We exchanged picutres. and secrets. and dreams. and fantasies. We were SURE we were soul mates. FO course we were, we were 15.

Then the incredible happened: she was coming up to visit family. In EVERETT. Well, we HAD to meet.. but she was busy every single day, or had one excuse after another. Finally she had an hour free and we agreed to meet at the McDonalds at the Assembly Square mall, a good 5 miles from my house. I didn't care. I biked there, heart racing.. we met, we sat, we ate fries, and... didn't talk. it was the most awkward thing you could imagine. I got the distinct impression that she was disappointed in what she found, and i mercifully killed things before they could get any more awkward.

Later on she would tell me (on the phone) that she thought I was "really really cute" and that her heart was going crazy, as well as her stomach.. but she saw an ex boyfriend in the booth next to ours and it was making her nervous. Yup, okay. Even I didn't buy that one. But that was after I spent a long, angry bike ride home in the dark, while I blasted a song in my headphones over and over.

Cryin
Aerosmith

There was a time
When I was so brokenhearted
Love wasn't much of a friend of mine
The tables have turned, yeah
'Cause me and them ways have parted
That kind of love was the killin' kind, so listen
All I want is someone I can't resist
I know all I need to know by the way that I got kissed
I was cryin' when I met you
Now I'm tryin to forget you
Your love is sweet misery
I was cryin' just to get you
Now I'm dyin' 'cause I let you
Do what you do - down on me, yeah
Now there's not even breathin' room
Between pleasure and pain
Yeah you cry when we're makin' love
Must be one and the same
It's down on me
Yeah, I got to tell you one thing
It's been on my mind
Girl I gotta say
We're partners in crime
You got that certain something
What you give to me
Takes my breath away
Now the word out on the street
Is the devil's in your kiss
If our love goes up in flames
It's a fire I can't resist
I was cryin' when I met you
Now I'm tryin to forget you
Your love is sweet misery
I was cryin' just to get you
Now I'm dyin' 'cause I let you
Do what you do to me, yeah

'Cause what you got inside
Ain't where your love should stay
Yeah, our love, sweet love, ain't love
'Till you give your heart away, yeah ahh
I was cryin' when I met you
Now I'm tryin to forget you
Your love is sweet misery
I was cryin' just to get you
Now I'm dyin' to let you
Do what you do what you do down to me, baby, baby, baby, baby, baby...

I was cryin' when I met you
Now I'm tryin to forget you
Your love is sweet misery
I was cryin' when I met you
Now I'm dyin' 'cause I let you
Do what you do down to, down to, down to, down to, down to... ahh
I was cryin' when I met you
Now I'm dyin to forget you
Your love is sweet
I was cryin' when I met you

I am trying to get dates straight. Funny how you can get something so messed up and it was only like... god.. never mind the only, it was 12 years ago. wow. Anyway, in the 8th grade, I went to my friend Aram's birthday party. We went to the movies. I knew everyone there except this one kid, named Daniel. The three us of hung out more that summer, and when Daniel started going to my school (BB&N) the following fall, i already knew him pretty well.

The first 10 days of Freshman year was Bivouac. Bivouac was a camping trip up in New Hampshire, that every freshman had to go to. Many teachers were also there, as well as a few seniors who came back to help out. But it was a thing for us freshman, a bonding experience. We made our own A-frames, cooked our won food, cut our own wood. We had tents, though, and we got groceries from base camp every other day, so it wasn't like lord of the flies or anything. oh yeah, and we had to dig our own latrine. Every morning, we had to walk down to the lake to bathe/swim. 7:00 AM sharp. New Hampshire. September. 'Nuff said. It was a good time. Sorta. More good than bad. Worth going.

Anyway, I'm getting sidetracked. The point is, Daniel & I were in different camps and didn't see each other much but hung out quite a bit as soon as we got back to the actual school. I guess it was November or so, I started going to his house on Saturday afternoons to play D&D. There I met a whole new group of people, and how Daniel knew any of them was anyones guess. We were probably THE most unusual group an NBC sitcom writing team could assemble.

There was me, of course.

And Daniel Barkalow- tall, lanky, red haired, soft spoken, computer programming phenom.

Stefan- he was our DM every week for 3 years. God love him, he was fun, but we never got past 4th level. 3 years. Every week. Stefan was half Chinese and half.. whatever. For years we thought he was Thai, and he never said anything to the contrary. Then one day, out of the blue.. "You know.. Im not Thai. Im Chinese." "...oh." "okay, then."

Jon- Jon was younger than the rest of us by about a year and a half, which would make him about 13 when we started playing. But he was already shaving. And who knew what else. The kid was HUGE. Strong too, but a teddy bear if you got to know him.

And yet Jon wasn't the biggest of our group (I know what you're thinking, i was actually the smallest. Go figure.) Nope, that position was held by Andy Harris. God love Andy. He was blonde, perpetually smiling, bandanna'ed and 6'5" of 15 year old. 6 foot fucking five, man. Kid was a freakshow. But like Jon, Andy was a delicate butterfly. We all were, we were geeks What the heck.

Last but not least, our unofficial leader, Craig Ciampa. Craig was a year OLDER than the rest of us, and bore an uncanny resemblance to Jason Priestly. I mean it was freaky. So, when were were all at Dans house, he could roll Thac0s with the best of us.. but put him around girls and things changed dramatically. We tried to make him go out with a bag over his head but to no avail.

Anyway, every week went exactly the same- Show up at noon, play some Street Fighter 2, then the Game. We played through that fucking temple of elemental evil for THREE YEARS, man. I guess you could say we lacked focus. During the dame, Daniel's dad would serve us the same thing week after week- Mama Celeste pizzas (extra parmesean) and white grape juice from concentrate. Every week, same thing, and we didn't mind at all. There was something so comforting about that combo, and Dans dad, and that house, and that game. We never wanted it to end.

But, of course, everything has to change, and doubly so when you're a bunch of pubescent boys.

Act 1

Act 2:

After Kindergarten, Alex was enrolled in a pricate school in neighboring Winchester named Bartlett. It was a small school: His 1st grade class had 15 studens, which slowly dwindled to 10 by the time he left after 6th grade. He learned a lot of things in grade school: he learned how stereotypes exist even in small communities (There was Aaron, the Jewish Kid, Tom, the Italian Kid, David, the Quiet Kid, Trevor, the dyslexic kid, Allegra, the musical kid, Sharon, brainy kid, heather, the spoiled kid, etc cetera). He did not see these as bad traits or something to look up or down to people for, he simply learned that everyone was unique.

He learned accomplishment: A's across the board for the most part. A's in geography, A's in history, A's in math, A's in science, A's in social studies. His weak subjects were penmanship and French: mostly B+'s and B's, respectively.

Then there was the other side of the report card, where things like attendance and conduct were graded. This is where Alex learned he was the Problem Kid in his school. C's, an occasional C's in conduct. Alexander talks too much in class. Alexander is disruptive. Alexander is an overactive child who doesn't know when to calm down. Looking back, Alex would realize that this was greatly exaggerated by old fashioned, puritanic teachers who couldn't handle the fact that they weren't allowed to beat kids any more. (He was twice severely reprimanded for saying "oh my God". For the most part, Alex was a perfectly average, active kid. He was skinny, he liked sports and recess. he liked to talk, but it was mostly in a constructive manner, asking questions incessantly and always wanting to know more, and to contribute. Still, the fact that he was sent to the principals office almost every day took its toll and he began to feel that there was something wrong with him and that he WAS the hyper kid.

His parents, for their part, did the best they could. They tried to discipline him, but not be too hard. Both of them had parents who thought nothing of striking them with various implements, and they didn't want to use the same approach, of course. In fact, Alex's father only hit him three times. The first time, he had been sat down for a long talk, as his father often did. his father rambled an awful lot, but he also had a lot of good advice to give in between mixed metaphors, and despite his fathers fears, he did listen to every word. This one particular time he must have done something particularly bad, because his father was awfully angry. not that his father wasn't ALWAYS angry. Alex no doubt got his temper from both of his parents. In any case, his father was talking about how one always had to remain level-headed and never resort to violence. And always think throguh the consequences of ones actions. For instance, he could hit Alex right now, but that wouldn't accomplish much, and Alex could fall back and hit his head and get badly hurt. Then Alex's dad hit him anyway.

This is the precise moment Alex learned irony.

Somewhere in the middle of these 6 years, his parents decided to send him to "A man who would like to talk with him once a week." he did know yet know the title Child Psychologist. The Man had a nice office in lexington over an ice cream store. He was old, but not as old as Alex's parents. He wore brown pants. The only other person who wore brown pants was Cosmo, the man who cut Alex's hair. He would meet with The Man once a week on Fridays. he was told by his parents to tell his friends he was "doing errands" during this time, so he wouldn't have to be embarrassed. He didnt know why this should be embarrassing, but it must have been, so the belief that he was a problem child was further cemented.

The man would ask Alex questions about his dog, and his soccer team, and his piano practice, and his goldfish. Easy questions. None of the cool hard questions his teachers asked him. It was kind of boring but he got ice cream so it was okay. After 8 weeks or so, The Man told Alex's parents that he was just an active, intelligent (very intelligent) kid. He was not dyslexic, he was not hyperactive, and he most certainly did not have ADD, because most people had never heard of it. (He probably DID have ADD, and it was a damn good thing he wasn't put on drugs for it). his parents shrugged and stopped sending him to The Man, and encouraged him to take the teachers' punishments with a grain of salt.

Because Alex went to a private school his friends were scattered all over the general area. he had few friends in his own neighborhood. His best friend for awhile was probably Jason Cipriani. Jasons parents got divorced and his dad got a much younger girlfriend and a pickup truck. His mother kept the house, and him and his older sister Jennifer. Jason and Alex got Nintendos the same Christmas and played for hours and hours on end. Then there were the Chisolms, and the Minogues. Alex didnt ponder birth control's role in Roman Catholocism, he just thought it was cool that 8 kids came from two families next door to each other, so a couple of them were almost always home to play with.

Then there were Heather and Eric Maybomb. The Maybombs lived directly across the street from Alex. He and heather were friends very young in life, and drifted apart. heather became, for the sake of brevity, a skank ho, and her older brother Eric was not quite the neighborhood bully, but he was not a nice fellow. One of Alex's flippant remarks was met with a swift punch to the stomach a t the hand of Eric, and they never had cause to speak to one another again. He is now a writer for ER, go figure.

But it was his Bartlett friends he saw the most of, especially Tommy Morrison from Melrose. His father was names Jim Morrison and wanted to skip the tradition of giving his son the name Jim because of any connotations with fame. The champion boxer Tommy Morrison had yet to make the scene. one weekend, Tommy & Alex stayed up playing Tetris for 25 consecutive hours. They would trade off between nintendo and Game boy when they lost. That night was Alex's first hallucination.

The only other notable member of the Bartlett family was Caitlin Filtzer. Caitlin, with her 4 older siblings and 35 year old mother, was Alex's first experience with white trash, though he had no idea, of course. he just knew that she was really cute and fun to play nintendo with. i suppose she could be considered Alex's first crush. Why not.

The summer after 6th grade, Alex went to camp at Mount Ida college in Newton. it was a good time to go, because his mother was quitting smoking, and probably needed the rest. it was to be a 2 week enlistment which was extended to three because he had just such a great time. he met two good friends there, Siamac and Dan. Siamac he would know for many, many years hence. Dan, however, was killed by a drunk driver a few weeks after camp ended. he was helping his father change a flat tire in the breakdown lane, and a pickup truck hit them going about 100 miles an hour.

7th grade, and another new school. Buckingham, Browne & Nichols was a very, very different place from Bartlett. For one thing, it cost more than most Universities. For another, it was in the Big City of Cambridge. And then, of course, were the classes. Alex was exposed to things like Algebra, African History, and Latin. A's did not come easily: as a matter of fact, they did not come at all. C+'s and B-'s were par for the course, and A's were not even considered unless one had a 4.0 and performed extra credit. This was a major blow to Alex's confidence.. on the other hand, he relished the challenge. To say he worked his hardest, though, would not be correct. He worked hard, of that there is no doubt. Swimming, Soccer, piano lessons at the Boston Conservatory all took a back seat to his studies and he made passable grades. he knew he was learning what he needed to, even if the tests didnt always reflect it. he was still in the upper-half of his class, but he quickly learned he did not want to pass up what was left of his social life for a few more +'s on his card and the praise of the kids he didnt like.

Oh yes, Alex also learned, gradually, that he had a great dislike for most liberals. More specifically, the knee-jerk liberals that rarely considered the consequences or veracity of their beliefs and just pointed their finger and shouted "Politically incorrect!" at anything they didnt like. But he didnt complain too much when his classes were cancelled every month or so for a "human relations day" or a "town meeting".

In the 9th grade, Alex met a kid named Ned Bernett. He wouldnt exactly call him a friend, though they got along. perhaps a friendship could have flourished if given enough time. They both were the outcast of their old schools, had that same problem child stigmata, both a bit brash, a bit talkative.

One November night, Ned shot himself in the head, and died.

No one knew why. Alex went to the funeral. He didn't know why. he felt like... like this was his first experience with death. It was a rite of passage, if you will. In a strange, morbid way, it was as if Ned was giving Alex this experience, and he didn't want to refuse it, it wouldnt be right. There had to be SOME reason. This may have sewn the seeds for the strange thoughts that would plague Alex for years to come.

9th grade, and things were just starting to get interesting...

On January 21st, 1977, a boy was born in Newton Hospital in Massachusetts, USA. It was a Friday. He shared a birthday with Placido Domingo, Telly Savalas, Geena Davis, and Emma "Baby Spice" Bunton. It was the 53rd anniversary of Vladimir Lennon's death, and the Concorde had been flying for one year.

He was slapped, weighed, circumcised, tagged and thrown in a holding cell. 13 days later, he went home with Mir. Paul Hagop Kaloostian, a 2nd generation Armenian and Mrs. Judith Ann Kaloostian, nee Olivadoti, a 3rd generation Irish Italian. He was christened Alexander Frank Kaloostian, Alexander being his father's father, and Frank his mother's father. They decided his mother would raise him Roman Catholic.

He grew up in a 3 bedroom house in the Boston suburb of Medford, known for its overwhelmingly Italian population, and the birthplace of Amelia Airheart and the woman who wrote "Jingle Bells". He had a typical upper-middle class only child upbringing, and to spoil the ending, his parents never divorced or separated, no one close to him was an alcoholic, he was never molested or abused or abducted and the first time he had to confront death in the family did not come until his aunt died when he was 26. His father owned convenience stores and dabbled in real estate and stocks on the side. His mother worked in the aforementioned stores but spend the vast majority of her time at home, raising Alexander and cleaning the house to an almost but not quite compulsive degree.

For his first Christmas, at 11 months old, before the advent of Duplo or even Basic, his father blatantly disregarded the "For ages 8 & up" on the box and bought him a Lego set. He would fall in love and later add Capsella, Bristle Blocks, Erector, Construx and Tinker Toys to his repertoire, but never Lincoln Logs.

At the age of 5 he was enrolled in nursery school at Temple Beth Shalom in his hometown. He would make friends and act like a typical 5 year old, and envy the kids that got to stay up late and watch The A-Team and Knight Rider. one day, the children were playing with clay. Alexander (for he had yet to decide he preferred Alex), wasn't playing, he was just staring at the table, head in his hands. His teacher, a large woman with glasses and gray hair, asked him what was wrong. He replied that 39 people had died in a mudslide in Venezuela, reciting from the newspaper that was spread on the table.

When his mother came to the parent-teacher conference, she was asked incredulously why she would force a five year old to read. She would reply "I didn't force him, he asked me to teach him. And he wasn't five when he learned, he was three".

That December, while sliding down the banister in their home, he fell and broke his foot, more specifically his left 2nd metatarsal. he was more distressed at missing his aunt's Christmas party than the injury. he wasn't put in a cast but relegated to bed for 6 weeks. he was up after 4, and only used his crutches for 2 days. it was the first and last time he would break a bone.

At 6, he was enrolled in kindergarten at St. Raphael's parish in neighboring Arlington. His teacher was a terribly tall dark haired woman with an unpronounceable name. He made friends easy enough, and one enemy, a kid named stephen. They had two fights over the year and were both disciplined more than the rest of the class. His teachers were equally amazed by his academic performance and upon finishing Kindergarten, they advised his parents to keep him in the school, but to skip to 2nd grade, with 3rd grade math and 5th grade reading classes throughout the day. Knowing this would destroy any chance of him getting laid in decades hence, they decided to pull him from St. Rays and put him in a small private school in Winchester called Bartlett.

At 7, he was told he was adopted. his parents seemed bothered that he wasn't upset. he was curious. he asked why he was adopted. "Because your parents couldn't keep you". "Oh. Why not?" "Because they were too young, and they couldn't afford it and they wanted to stay in school and they wanted you to have a better life then you would have with them. They did it for you." "Oh. Okay."

And that was the end of that.



To be continued...