Let’s get this out of my system once and for all. I’m really obsessed with the fact that I am a 22 year old virgin. Sure, I’ve got friends saying “Don’t worry. We’re in the same boat. It’s no biggie.” Are you sure it’s no biggie? I mean, have you people been watching TV at all in the last ten years? Every week, we are presented with another contrived sitcom plot where we see two of the characters in bed together. It sure is implied what they just finished doing! And not just the sitcoms! The commercials are just as bad. Every ad on TV right now seems to have some hot guy and some hot girl doing something suggestive to sell clothes. Or hamburgers. Or cars. You’ve got magazine covers with headlines like “The 12 hour orgasm” and “10 positions to blow his mind.” When you’re a pop-culture junkie like me, you end up seeing this stuff everywhere. How can you not be obsessed?

It’s even worse when you consider my people. Yes, I happen to be a fan of science-fiction. Yes, I enjoyed the book The Hobbit. Yes, I’ve seen Star Wars Episode I twice. Yes, I read comic books. Yes, I have my own website. Yes, I own a few episodes of Star Trek on video. According to those sitcoms, my people are the most likely to be this age and still virgins. Hell, those sitcoms say I’ll still be virginal at age 40. I always wondered why my demographic seems to be the one that’s the most picked on, and I think I’ve figured out why. We are the true radicals. It all starts in high school. While everyone else was busy out there experimenting with their bodies, we were developing other interests. Sure, they had sex, but we went out and got ourselves futures. And some think, television writers mostly, that what they saw in high school dictates how we will lead our lives. Well, guess what? We grew up. We created lives out of our science projects, our programming skills, and our love of literature. That explains my demographic. But not me.

With so many friends telling me that this is not a problem, why do I have it so set in my mind that it is a problem? I should quit blaming society and focus on me. True, society is not the problem, but they sure aren’t helping any. I look back on my life, brief as it’s been, and certain things stick out like a sore thumb. I haven’t fucked anyone. I haven’t been out on a date. I haven’t even been kissed yet. My problem isn’t the fact that I am a virgin, but it is the extremeness of my virginity. I say virgin, and people instantly assume I’m talking about sex. But it’s not that I haven’t fucked anyone. It’s that I’ve never loved anyone.

What is this thing love that people are so hung up on? What drives them to write stories about, sing songs about it, and make movies about it? I have no clue! All I know about love and relationships is what I’ve seen in society, and I tell you, it’s been a lousy teacher. All those sitcoms I watch so much have made it very clear: sex happens on the third date. A kiss is not required, nor expected, on the first date, so get it ready for the second. They always tend to present this allegory of “the bases.” “I got to first base last night!” they say. “I got to third with her!” they loudly proclaim. Could someone please tell me what these bases are? And, somewhere in the middle of all this, people are supposed to fall in love. As a teacher, society always seems to leave out some of the finer points. So, any parents who are reading this, I give you this lesson: never let society be a teacher! That’s why we have the education system. And you guys. Society dictates that we kids are supposed to get “the talk” from you guys.

I never had “the talk” with my parents. I think it’s because they saved it for when we kids had questions. I mean, my brother started asking questions about it his second day of high school, so he got “the talk.” When my sister started dating, I think my parents gave her “the talk” against her will. But she got it. But, because I’ve never dated, I never had questions, and I never got “the talk.” And now, to expect it at 22, that is weird. So, I’m pretty sure I’m on my own from this point out. What a shame to have missed out on one of the milestones of growing up.

Speaking of milestones, the one thing that hurts me the most about my virginity is the fact that I am this age, and have yet to experience that first kiss. Most people, when they reflect on that first kiss, tend to go back to the third grade, and it happened during a game of spin the bottle at their best friend’s birthday party. And, by mere coincidence, it was the person they had a crush on. It was magical! It was wonderful! It was special! For me, it’ll probably be with some girl in the back of a bar when I’m 36. And, when someone is this out of practice when it comes to kissing, you can imagine the questions that arise. How is it initiated? Do I lean in? Does she lean in? Do I keep my eyes open or closed? Do I keep my mouth open or closed? Do I suck? Does she suck? What does the tongue do in all of this? My head explodes with all those questions. From my point of view, the kiss is a lot more complicated than fucking. In my mind, there is a lot more pressure to get that first kiss right than that first fuck. But, TV tells me that vice-versa is true. I think in this case I’ll go with my gut.

And flirting! That’s another thing I have no idea how to do. So I don’t. I definitely know that nothing’s going to happen if I don’t start flirting. But, you’ve got to admit, that is something you cannot screw up. When encountered with an attractive person, flirting is generally your first impression. Never, ever screw up a first impression. See, since I don’t flirt, I haven’t screwed anything up yet. It’s a simple logic, but it leaves me home alone, in my basement, to write about why I’m a 22 year old virgin. I think that this is how I’ll flirt. I’ll just be honest. When someone “tickles my fancy,” shall we say, I’ll just walk up to her and say, “I suck at flirting, so I’ll just say straight up that I find you quite attractive.” I’ve never been one for diplomacy, anyway. But will this result in the ultimate goal?

My ultimate goal is to sleep with someone. Not what you’re thinking! What I mean is to have someone lay beside me and sleep there. Someone with whom I can gaze upon as she sleeps and think to myself, “This person loves wholly, completely and unconditionally. And I love her wholly, completely and unconditionally.” I lose my virginity the day that happens. I lose it the day I have a special someone to snuggle up to and watch my sitcoms with. I lose it the day I finally get that first kiss. I lose my virginity the day I fall in love. If I eventually get to have sex sometime in the relationship, that’s just a bonus.

When I was in the ninth grade, a person (the girl I had a crush on, ironically enough) asked me when I expected all this to happen. I said when I turned 16. My schedule has been corrupted. And those who know of my obsession with time know how much I hate to miss an appointment. I used to be OK with that, but then I started watching Ally McBeal. That show has warped my perceptions of love, life, and sex so badly, that I can’t help but be obsessed. My friends say they shouldn’t let it get to me, but I don’t think they ever fully understand. Half of them are in relationships right now. They have what I want. They are not virgins in my eyes. They have someone to love. I do not. I understand Shakespeare’s words: “It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.” I have never loved. And it’s a living hell.

And that’s why I’m obsessed with the fact that I’m a 22-year old virgin. I’m glad I finally got that off my chest! As they said in that one movie, “You can either get busy living, or get busy dying.” Now that I’ve gone public with this, I guess my true test will be seeing what I can do about it. It’s time to take some risks. I know that she’s out there somewhere. It is time to start looking, and quit being looked for. My journey is just beginning.

A day long in waiting at long last happened. It was one of those days where you knew it was coming for a long time, but when you look back, it doesn’t look like it you’ve been waiting for it all that long. I’m sure that if you’ve been reading my online editions since they started, you have a clear idea of what happened.
My sister came back from Europe.

This, of course, meant a return trip to my beloved airport. I still like that building. There are lots of good vibes in an airport. You can just pick up on it when you walk in the door. There is this air of reunions, farewells, new beginnings and those endings you never thought were coming. My mood, however, was different than last time I was there. I can’t explain it. When I was there last, I was excited for my sister. She was leaving on a most excellent adventure from which she would be returning (most likely) a changed person. But now, I felt sad for my sister. Sad that her adventure had to come to an end. The whole time she was gone, her phone calls home reflected her change. The first few were scared and lonely. The last ones were full of confidence and exuberance. If she could only remain that confident, exuberant person. Only time would tell. But, for now, all I had to do was meet her.

She stepped out of the gate looking very much like a weary world traveler. The first people she hugged were my parents. Then, her boyfriend. Not me. This is one of the quirks of my sister that I’ve come to understand. I like hugging people. It’s a lot nicer than a handshake. But, my sister hates it when I hug her. So I don’t. We just look at each other and say “Hey.” So, we looked at each other and said “Hey.” Wanting to get home quickly, we made our way to the truck, and loaded her backpack. My parents were, of course, in the front, and my sister’s boyfriend and I kind of squished my sister in the middle of the back seat. As we approached the toll booth at the edge of the parkade, my parents got all panicked. Apparently, they had misplaced the little ticked stub that you present to the parking lot attendant. They frantically searched the dashboard, their pockets, the seat. Dad pulled over and got of the truck and looked under the seat. He then looked up to see that it was on the dashboard all along. At this point, I turned to my sister and said “Welcome home.”

When we reached Entwistle, it was time for her to divvy out the souvenirs, and regale us with tales of her travels. She mentioned how she unexpectedly ended up haggling with a person on the Eiffel Tower over a cheap souvenir Eiffel Tower. She told the tale of how an angry encounter with a rude waiter at a Rome restaurant resulted in her swiping cutlery from that restaurant. She confirmed that CNN report I saw that Stonehenge had become very much a tourist attraction. And, something every world traveler should now, Barcelona has a very good Kentucky Fried Chicken. Now, the good stuff. I had requested that my sister only bring me back three postcards: the Eiffel Tower, the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and Stonehenge. She brought me back at least a dozen. She brought me postcards of Notre Dame, the Mona Lisa, the canals of Venice, St. Steven’s Cathedral, paintings in the Picasso Museum in Barcelona, panoramic postcards of the bridges in Budapest, two (2!) of the Eiffel Tower, and one of Stonehenge at sunset. She was a little upset with herself that she didn’t get me any postcards from Rome, but I said that it was OK, and I’ll get one for myself someday. Oh, and she explained that she didn’t get me one of the Leaning Tower of Pisa because the town of Pisa is actually quite out of the way, and she didn’t get there. That’s OK. My favorite postcard? The gargoyles of Notre Dame. Oh, and besides postcards, she got me a Star Wars Episode I collector’s Pepsi can from Germany. That sounds like nothing, until you realize that all the writing on this can is in German, Darth Maul is on the can, and European pop cans are twice the size of ours. The can is unopened, but I’m not going to drink it. I’m assuming that German Pepsi tastes the same as Canadian Pepsi. Oh, and Episode I‘s title in German is Star Wars Episode I: Die Dunkle Bedrohung. (Translation: “The Dark Threat.”) Definitely a centerpiece in my Star Wars collection. And from here, it was time for my sister to go off to her boyfriend’s place, so they could have some privacy. Since my sister has always spent a lot of time at her boyfriend’s place, after she left I made the snarky comment that “I always like it when she comes to visit.” But, I’m glad she’s home.

And now, something else happened this weekend that I wasn’t really looking forward to: the Cappis family reunion! This is the annual event where I get together at some campground with all my uncles, aunts and cousins and watch them get drunk. It’s been ages since I’ve felt like I belonged with those people. Ever since I was younger, it seemed that at all these family functions, all the cousins would group together in similar age groups to hang out. Being the only one born in 1977, I have no age group to hang out with. And, now that we’ve all grown up, they have all become jocks and tradesmen, and could care less about a guy with a B.SC. in physics and math with an affixation for science-fiction. So, I often just sit there, listening in on their conversations, and partially existing in Markworld. It also hurts that I don’t drink, yet I come from a family of social drinkers. And, all of my cousins younger than me were sure to show off their lovers, once again hammering home the fact that I’m a 22 year old virgin. This is one of those situations where I go “My next computer will be a laptop.” Then, when they start drinking and talking about life at that plant, I can crawl off into a corner and play Need For Speed 3 over and over. I love that game. My next computer will definitely be powerful enough to run it.

Well, my cousins aren’t all bad. There’s my cousin Don. He likes Star Wars just a little more than I do. He’s the one who got me hooked up on ICQ. And, he always makes an effort to come over and see how I’m doing. Plus, as we were saying our farewells on Sunday morning, he asked me to e-mail him my URL, so there’s a good chance he’ll be reading this. Hi Don!

My sister said that when she was in Europe, she had found “her people.” A group, just like her, off on a most excellent adventure. She instantly connected with them, and made a whole new world of friends. I’ve always felt like I’ve been searching for the group where I fit in. I discovered a long time ago that it is not with my extended family. One of my aunts asked me where my life is, and I told her truthfully: it’s online. Everyone I feel that I ever connected with is on ICQ. Some people write letters, some make phone calls, I e-mail. And, I come from an extended family that has very little grasp of e-mail. I mention the World Wide Web, and they get a confused look on their faces. It took me a long time to find my people, and just when we were starting to really get to know each other, I had to go and graduate. Some of them have already invited me back to Augustana in September to visit. “It’ll be like being a student, but without the pressures of schoolwork,” one of them said in their invitation. It is a reunion that I can hardly wait for. It is a day long in waiting, and when it happens, it’ll seem like it wasn’t that long.

Hey there, all! Let me explain the set-up for this column. I have this one friend. Every once in a while, usually when it’s really late at night and I have nothing better to do, I send him an e-mail detailing things that are bugging me lately. It donned on me “Why don’t I leave my friend alone, and just convert these ramblings into a column?” So, what you are about to read is an actual e-mail I sent him! I’ll call him/her “Neelix” to protect his/her life. Here’s the letter:

Hey Neelix!

How’s it going? I was just having one of those nights where I’m bored out of my mind, so I thought I’d sent you a little something to say “hi!”
I see now that McDonald’s is having this special, where for another fifty cents or so, they’ll put bacon on your burger. They’ll put bacon on any of their burgers. When I heard about this I instantly thought “What’s the strangest thing you could put bacon on?” I now lie awake at night wondering what a Fillet-O-Fish with bacon would taste like.

Speaking of fast food, I’m sure by now we’ve all seen that A&W Papa Burger commercial. You know, the one where the wife is getting all ready for a romantic evening, and the husband is making all these romantic overtures. Then, to the wife’s dismay, he’s making all these romantic overtures to the Papa Burger. Those who have seen the commercial know that the husband is brought out of his stupor by being smacked by the A&W bear. This has led me to wonder: if the husband and wife are prepared for a romantic evening, what is the guy in the bear suit doing there? And do I really want to know? Reminds me of that line from the cartoon Futurama: “I don’t want to know what you’re doing with the one-eyed alien, the crab, and the Asian lady, but whatever it is it’s screwing up the TV reception.”

I really hate those GAP commercials that are currently on. You know the ones with all those people singing some kind of song in unison, and it ends with “Everyone in (insert name of clothing that the GAP deems “hot”). They are really getting on my nerves. I don’t know why. I think it’s because they have a creepy “You will be assimilated” feeling to them. I can see it now: “We are GAP. You will wear our fashions. Resistance is futile.” The whole GAP experience makes me nauseous. I went into one of their stores once, and it almost made me vomit. Literally. There was some kind of smell in the air that was making me sick. Besides, that and they are seeking to assimilate. I’ll continue buying my $9.95 Hawaiian shirts at Zeller’s, thank you very much.

Do you want to know something ironic? I don’t drink, yet I’m amassing a huge collection of beer mugs and glasses. I don’t know why, it just happened that way. I’ve got one that my Dad let me have from his collection. I got one that an aunt gave me for my 18^th birthday. I’ve got one from Red Lobster restaurants, because we went there for my birthday one year, and they were giving them away that night. I’ve got one from a garage sale that the ALCB once deemed the standard for all bars across Alberta. I’ve got one from Planet Hollywood, as thanks for everything I did for Augustana’s radio station in the 97/98 school year. And, I’ve got a beer stein from Germany. But, what bugs me is I’m missing one. My grandmother gave me one for Christmas one year. I kept it in its box, and on my desk. Then, when I went to college, my Dad spread out his beer-making stuff on my desk. When he moved his stuff, he claimed the mug for himself. After I got back, I put it back on my desk. When I came home from college back in April, my desk had been moved, and the mug missing completely. Since I’ve just started worrying about it now, I’m wondering if I should start pestering to get it back, or give it up. I’m thinking about giving it up.

Hey, did you know that the very first Masters of the Universe comic had He-Man teaming up with Superman? It’s true! This is how it went down. In another one of his efforts to break into Castle Greyskull, Skeletor opened up an inter-dimensional portal. But, Skeletor’s aim was off, and the portal opened up on Earth, where it sucked Superman through to Eternia. Since Superman tends to make his powers kind of obvious, Skeletor quickly put a spell on him, and used Superman to launch an assault on Greyskull. He-Man, Battle Cat, and Teela showed up to thwart this assault, and it became a slug-fest between Superman and He-Man. Eventually, the Sorceress of Greyskull was able to determine that Superman was under a spell and removed it. He-Man and Superman then teamed up to take down Skeletor for the day. The Sorceress then opened up a portal back to Earth, and Superman went home. Cool, eh? I don’t know why no one’s tried to resurrect He-Man as a comic book. I’d read it!

Finally saw I movie I’ve been wanting to see for a long time, and a movie people have been telling me to see for a long time: The Shawshank Redemption. That was just an amazing movie. And such a simple theme: in the direst of circumstances, hope survives. That guy Andy (played by Tim Robbins) never gave up hope. And that was cool. Like he said, there’s something deep down inside, that no one can take away. I’ll probably watch it again before I have to take it back to the video store. Hey, and the creators of that film are almost done a similarly-themed movie. Like The Shawshank Redemption, it takes place in a prison in the 50’s, is written and directed by Frank Darabont, and based on a book by Stephen King. It’s called The Green Mile, and it’s about a death row inmate who appears to have the ability to work miracles. Tom Hanks plays a guard who befriends this inmate. Looks pretty good. Hopefully, it is as a good as The Shawshank Redemption. Wow, that was good.

After that, I watched Mallrats. Mallrats has a special place in my heart. First, it was the first movie I saw at college, thus setting up my whole university existence. Secondly, it turned me on to the films of Kevin Smith. I don’t know, his movies just speak to me. The characters seem to be the most like me. Anyway, this is what I find cool. At the end of Clerks, we see the words “Jay and Silent Bob will return in Dogma.” At the end of Mallrats, we see “Jay and Silent bob will return in Chasing Amy.” And, at the end of Chasing Amy, we see “Jay and Silent Bob will return in Dogma. No, really. I mean it this time.” If all goes smoothly, Dogma will come out in November.

And, that’s a good place to leave this! See ya!

Scarecrow

The blankness of the page. It sits there in front of me. “Touch me,” it says. “Soil me,” it says. “Make me dirty with your thoughts.” The page beckons. Okaaaaay, now that I have that filthiness out of my system, let’s move on shall we?

Forgive me. When I started this, I thought “Maybe I should do the tortured artist thing.” But, when you’ve had a life as easy as mine, it’s hard to be tortured. Here I am, 22 years old, and still playing with toys. No room for filthiness in this mind when you’ve got Star Wars action figures! I haven’t bought any new Star Wars action figures lately. I’ve been waiting until the second wave comes out, so I can get Captain Panaka. You know, he was the captain of the queen’s guards. He’s the guy in the trailer who says “I do not think that this is a battle we can win.” I just think he’s kind of cool. So, when his action figure comes out, it’ll be the next one I get. But, I guess I should hurry up and get to the point of this column.

This Thursday, I had a choice. I could either sit around on my butt, watching the mindless daytime television programs, or I could go into the city with my mother. So, what do you think I did? I went into the city with Mom. But first, we had some fun. Mom had to stop off at her office. She hadn’t been there in a month, so she was eager to see what kind of paperwork had piled up. As always, she said she’d be quick, so I contented myself to sitting in the car, and listening to the radio. I thought it was time to do something I rarely did, so after 20 minutes in Markworld, I tuned the radio from the usual Oldies 1260 to Power 92. It was time to catch up on what was current in the music world. So, I’m laying in the car, groovin’ to the tunes, when I started thinking “Gee, it’s boring in the car.” So, I cranked up the volume as loud as I could, left the car door open, and started sunbathing on the front lawn of my Mom’s office building. It was a nice day. Then, something weird happened. Will Smith’s summer hit Wild Wild West began playing. You know, it’s just one of those songs where it’s impossible to stay still. So, there on the front lawn of my Mom’s office building, in front of busy street, I got up and began dancing. Boy did that group of kids biking by have funny looks for me! But I didn’t care. I was having fun. Next up on the radio, they played was has to be my favorite song of the summer: All Star by Smash Mouth. Since I was to exhausted to dance, I just sang along. Loudly. That’s when Mom came out and it was time to go. People tend to think I only act weird when I’m in public, but you don’t know what I do by myself. But I digress. On to Edmonton!

In the big city, my Mom and I made that deal that we always do: I check out the latest collectible action figures in Toys R Us, while she goes to Chapters and catches up on her reading. There was something in Toys R Us that I had been meaning to get for a while now, and it was finally time to go for it. So, I went straight to the Lego aisle, and I finally got my LITTLE LEGO BIPLANE!!! YES!! Since I really had nothing more to do at Toys R Us, I head over to Chapters, where, fortune of fortunes, I found that a book I had been dying to get was on sale for only $3.99! I’m finding the book to be a fascinating read. It’s called Star Trek Phase II: The Lost Series. Worth it only to see the starship Enterprise as designed by the guy who created the ships for Star Wars. After I found Mom, it was time to head to head up to West Edmonton Mall. I had nothing to do there except finally pick up the soundtrack for South Park: Bigger, Longer and Uncut. This is one of the best soundtracks this summer, so go get it now! Then, supper with Dad and off to home. I was eager to put together my Little Lego Biplane!

The official name of the Little Lego Biplane was the Bi-wing Baron. When you open the box, the first thing you have to do is get all your pieces together. I had forgotten how smooth and good-to-the-touch new Lego is. That and the smell of a new video have to be my favorite sensations. Anyway, first thing to do was put together the Little Lego Pilot. I assume that this pilot is the Baron of the name. He’s a rather mean looking fellow. He’s got a monocle, a nasty scar on his cheek, and the permanent Lego smile. He’s the first Lego man I’ve ever had with a hook for a hand. I’m serious! A Lego man with a hook for a hand. It leaves me wondering as to weather this is a Little Lego good guy or a Little Lego bad guy. Is he an ally of Indiana Jones or that nasty Belloq? And if you don’t get that reference, I suggest renting Raiders of the Lost Ark.

Now, to build the plane! Surprisingly simple construction. This biplane is a real weapon of war. It’s got all these rifles on the wings. Must be fast too, because it’s got flame shooting out the exhaust pipes. All in all, a mighty winged steed to take a man to the heavens. Never before has their been a more graceful Little Lego Biplane. But I still had problems with the allegiance of our pilot. Is he a hero? Is he a villain? Why does he have all those guns on his plane? What is the origin of that scar and that hook? It appeared that this Little Lego Adventurer needed a back story. The only inspiration I had to draw from was that pilot in The Mummy. He too, was an adventurer who flew a biplane. So, I dwelt on it as I watched Friends. If that doesn’t inspire you to create and adventurer, nothing will.

So, here’s the back story I’ve written for this Little Lego Adventurer. First, you need to know the time frame. All these great adventurer tales seem to take place in the 1920’s, so that’s the time my hero is from. Yup, I’ve said he’s a good guy. Here we go. Franklin von Abernathy, the Baron of Rendar, hails from a small county in England. He was raised in the refinement of high society, where he was becoming some what of a media darling. That all changed in the Great War. Doing the right thing for his country, he signed up for military service, and was given command of a fighter squadron on the front lines. He flew many victories, and won many of his country’s greatest honors. That all changed with his capture. One day, while flying a mission over enemy territory, his plane was shot down. In the crash, he lost his left hand. Surrounded by enemy forces, he was quickly overwhelmed and taken to a prison camp. There, the guards delighted in torturing him. The Baron soon had enough, and began plotting his escape. Under cover of night, he made a break for it. As he was crawling through a barbed wire fence, a guard startled him, causing the wire to snap back up in his face, and giving him his scar on his left cheek. He easily subdued the guard, and fled for freedom. When he made it back to friendly territory, he was once again praised for his bravery. Medics fitted him with a hook to replace his left hand. When the war ended, he returned to high society, but found it changed. Some say that soldiers returning from war seek to renew the adrenalin rush of combat, and that’s where our hero found himself. So, he started doing research into Egyptology, and soon found a map to a treasure known as the Ruby of Tohep. He bought himself a beat-up old biplane, and went down to Egypt, where he has begun his search for the Ruby. OK, I know I borrowed from a lot of sources, but it’s the best you can do when your mind is burned out on countless video games and movies.

So, at long last, I’ve got my Little Lego Biplane. I’m not sure how to end this column. I don’t want to revisit the dirty thought of the introduction, because that’s cleansed from my system. So, I’ll end this with my favorite verse from the song All Star by Smash Mouth:

Somebody once asked could I spare some change for gas,
“I need to get myself away from this place.”
I said “Yup, what a concept, I could use a little fuel myself,
And we could all use a little change.”
Well, the years start commin’ and they don’t stop commin’
I bent to the rules and I hit the ground runnin’
It didn’t make sense not to live for fun
Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb
So much to do, so much to see,
So what’s wrong with takin’ the back street?
You’ll never know if you don’t go.
You’ll never shine if you don’t glow.

Hey, there, everybody! At first I thought that last week’s column was kind of lame, but I’m glad to say I had a much more eventful week, leading to lots more to write about! But the problem is, where should I start? Well, as the old song says, “Let’s start at the very beginning; a very good place to start.” So, a long time ago, last Wednesday to be specific, in a town not to far away from yours, a great adventure was about to happen to a Scarecrow. . . .

Continue reading Summer Vacation ’99 →