1996 Changed Everything: Pt. 4 - Love, High School Style

This is part of a series of articles about 1996, as it holds significance for me since it was the year I graduated high school. In this fourth article, I look at how a significant relationship influenced decisions whose ramifications I am still feeling to this day.

Love is a wonderful thing. Michael Bolton said so in his 1991 hit song. Hey, it ended up in the Top 5, so he must have been on to something. Before you truly know what love is and what love feels like, love can take many different forms.

It can take the form of innocent crushes on girls in your class, like I had several of during elementary school. It can take the form of infatuation and pining like I did for a girl who used to visit my neighborhood during the summers of my formative years. When you are chasing the type of secure love that your life has not given you much of, you start to settle. You start to think that maybe you should say yes to whoever comes knocking.

Looking back thirty years, I can say in all honesty that during the nearly three years I dated my high school girlfriend, I thought I loved her at some point. Using my wisdom and experience from those years that have passed, I can say that, no, I never truly loved her. At least not in the purest form. Not in the way that I would want to be loved.

We came together mostly out of convenience. She literally lived next door to me and was friends with my sister Kate. I hardly had to do any work in terms of courting her before we were together. In fact, it was Kate who bluntly stated that we both knew we liked each other and that we should just get together.

I remember on that cold winter evening in February 1996 thinking to myself: Wait, I like her? I think my reservations were overruled by the thought of actually having a girlfriend, which was something I’d been wanting for years. A girlfriend in 5th grade, or a brief connection over a summer or two, was not the real relationship I was looking for.

I decided, why not? Soon we were hanging out and getting to know each other. The time together grew, which meant that my time with my group of friends shrank. In my mind, I thought if they were really my friends, they’d be happy that I had a girlfriend. Maybe that kind of justification to myself should have been a warning sign.

I was a senior while my new girlfriend was a freshman. It was not ideal. It actually made me feel a little less-than. Sure, a freshman who dates a senior would be seen as stepping up. A senior dating a freshman? It was more of a ‘what you couldn’t find anyone in your grade?’

Her reaction to us being together was to sweetly say, ‘I can’t believe I’m with you.’ It appealed to my ego. Yeah, I am a catch, I knew it. But it was also a lot of pressure to live up to. Also, in the back of my mind, I should have read it as it was: I had settled for less than I should.

Now, don’t get me wrong, this is not a knock on her. She was sweet, funny, kind, and supportive. I’m looking at it from my perspective. If I felt the same way as she did, then I wouldn’t have opted against going to my Senior Prom. I couldn’t let my friends and classmates see I was dating a freshman. That’s on me, not on her. My insecurities and low self-esteem kept me from going to one of the milestone events of high school life. Maybe a few people would have cared. Looking back, I think that my group of friends, many of whom I am still in touch with today, would have been happy I was there.

I’m sure the next logical question is, why did you date her in the first place, then? Convenience, the desire to have a girlfriend, and an inability to say no. I should have said I didn’t have those same feelings. I didn’t want to be seen as the bad guy. Plus, the fact that she was so damn into me was intoxicating to a teenage boy who had not felt much love or appreciation at home for much of my childhood. I needed that validation.

Celebrating moments after my high school graduation in 1996.

The way that I viewed love and relationships as a teenager is far different from the way I view them today, as it should be. In my immature mind, it was about the fooling around every bit as much as it was the emotional connection. It was about availability over compatibility.

I know it was a me thing. Growing up, I was not taught how to give affection or express emotions. Vulnerability was weakness, at least in the presence of my first stepfather. I lost my ability to trust new people, always figuring they had an ulterior motive or were waiting for the right time to hurt me. I had done two bouts of therapy as a younger kid and probably could have used more.

For my girlfriend, I was the prize she couldn’t believe she’d won. She only wanted to be with me. I can’t speak for her, but I know that to any fully functioning adult, this would have spelled a perfect relationship. Unfortunately, I was the awful combination of an immature teenage boy and an abused child with emotional issues. I was broken, and she couldn’t fix me. She shouldn’t have had to.

An unexpected revelation about myself from this relationship was finding out just how broken I was. When senior year was still ongoing, I had structure. I couldn't spend unending amounts of time with my girlfriend, so I think things were masked. Once school was over, we spent more time together, but it was all pretty smooth. It wasn’t until my friends went off to college while I took a semester off that things started to go off the rails.

It wasn’t long until I felt I had made a mistake. Not so much in dating her, but making choices in my life based on our relationship. I had decided to take a semester off before going to college. Not only take a semester off, but also not go to, or even apply to, colleges that would have been off of Cape Cod. I still believe this to be one of the worst decisions of my life.

Despite it being more about convenience than actual feelings, my girlfriend made me feel important. We had some fun times. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy being with her, but our interest levels were far apart. I wanted to give it a chance, though. If I had left for college, then that would have been it. We’d have been a quick fling to end my high school days. Perhaps it should have been.

Dating in high school is a trip. Maybe you have a car. Maybe your parents have to be your driver. Maybe you have money for dinner or some sort of activity. Maybe you can only afford to go for a walk. Maybe you hold hands and talk on the phone. Maybe you go all the way. As a teenager, the possibilities were seemingly the entire spectrum of what life could throw at you.


That semester off to end 1996 was sobering. I went from a high school senior with possibly limitless potential to a lowly dishwasher/prep cook living at home. I can remember my life becoming a routine. Work, hanging with my girlfriend, rinse repeat.

I would drive us around in my mom’s station wagon, or later, my first car, a Pontiac Grand Prix. We’d find secluded places to, well, you know. We’d hit up Taco Bell and Burger King. It was being a teenager, but doing so while my future was slowly fading off into the horizon. It’s like I was blissfully ignorant.

A 1982 Pontiac Grand Pirx, my first car.

When my girlfriend was all that was left in my social circle, I started to cling tight. Familiarity was something I desperately needed as the rest of my life was descending into chaos. My mother wasn’t happy that I was spending all my time hanging out with my girlfriend and eating fast food, going so far as to point out the weight I had gained since summer ended.

Now I needed my girlfriend to become my anchor. What started as convenience morphed into toxic desperation. I felt less-than in life. I felt weak and powerless from years of abuse and neglect at the hands of my father and first stepfather. Having a girlfriend who idolized me made me feel strong and important. I began to lean more into that.

When you start to believe your own hype, it can prove to be your downfall. I have been a mix of different issues for so long. I have an avoidant attachment style. It’s a fear of intimacy and vulnerability stemming from my childhood. I also crave the closeness and safety of a real, loving relationship. It is two opposing forces colliding.

Now, in my late 40’s, I can see this and express it. When I was 18, 19, it was all there but also wrapped up in immaturity and teenage angst. I wanted my girlfriend to be there. I’d sing songs to her, and we’d go on late-night walks through our neighborhood. Then, if I felt I was lowering the mask too much, I’d flip on a dime and become cold and callous. It had to have been incredibly frustrating and confusing for her.

I look back 30 years, and on one hand, I am embarrassed at how I ended up becoming a bad boyfriend. Instead of saying no to the initial meetup, I became drunk on the attention this girl gave me. If my life were out of control, I wouldn’t just talk to her or someone else about it. I would lash out or be cold and distant as a way to express my inner turmoil. I probably trashed her mental health and self-esteem as she wondered what she was doing wrong. In reality, I needed therapy badly. I do wonder if it would have been the same result even if I were dating my biggest crush I had back then. Maybe nobody would have been able to make it work.

Then again, I look back to 1996 and step back to see a broader view of me, my life, and my mental state. I was 18. I knew nothing of real intimate relationships. It was all new to me. I didn’t go into that relationship seeking to hurt anyone. That’s not me making excuses; it’s me going a little easier on myself because of where I was in life at the time. When you don’t have a reference point for how to cultivate a relationship, or even how to properly express yourself, you are destined for trouble.


A lot of this particular post about 1996 is me admitting my faults and trying to atone for my actions. Today I am my own harshest critic. I was not the greatest high school boyfriend. Yes, she and I lasted a little over 2 ½ years, but honestly, the relationship should have ended a year before it did. We even had a brief split, but I went back to rekindle it. I guess I was desperate for any sense of normalcy. It ended up being a big mistake. In fact, that final year of our relationship might be why I look back on its entirety with such a bitter taste.

We were never meant to be a long-term thing. Statistics show that less than 2% of high school sweethearts end up getting married. So it was a near-certainty that I’d be writing about our relationship in the past tense as of now. I don’t know what the best-case scenario was, but I do know that in a different timeline, we’d have been joined together forever. There was a brief moment, a week at most, when I was 19, where we had to wait with bated breath for her to get her period. I have no idea how my life would have looked if that scenario had happened.

When she had finally taken as much of my bipolar attitude as she could, she ended things. Ironically, I was caught off guard and desperately clung to her to not leave me. Imagine that? I had spent nearly all of our relationship wondering if I’d made a mistake, and when she finally confirms my belief, I couldn’t accept it.

Today, I am single and have been for years. I would love to have the relationship of my dreams, but something holds me back. I feel today much like I did in those final months of 1996. I want the relationship, but also want my independence. That type of thought process is fine when you’re a teen. It’s not as good when you’re nearing 50. So I look at dating sites but stay in the background. Perhaps I am worried that version of me I’ve spent this blog talking about is still in there?


To tie a bow on this subject, let me flash back to 2012. This girlfriend and I had broken up in the summer of 1998. We had not spoken or even seen each other since. I was in the middle of training for my first marathon. I was out on a long run. Once I had put in enough miles running, I stopped, shut off my running app, and prepared to walk the remaining mile or so home. Then I spotted her.

She was standing outside her car in a parking lot. We both looked at each other. She seemed hesitant. I was exhausted, basking a bit in the runner’s high. I approached her, and we began creating some small talk. As we spoke, something was weighing on me. Knowing I might not get the chance to have her in front of me again, I finally gave her the vulnerability that she was owed from me.

I told her I needed to apologize to her. She said it wasn’t necessary and seemed like she didn’t want to go there. I needed it badly, though. I told her that my life was a mess then, and I took out my anger at that on her, and she didn’t deserve that. She deserved better, and I was sorry that I treated her that way. I was literally shaking from the nervousness of truly exposing myself.

She could have told me off, but she didn’t. She accepted my apology, which made me feel better. We left things off cordially and parted ways. I remember being in tears for the rest of my walk. It was a huge weight that was lifted off my heart. Yes, I had been a bad boyfriend, but I had grown from it, recognized my mistakes, and apologized from the heart. In life, that’s all you really can do.

1996 began with me at 18, single, in my senior year of high school, counting down the days until school was out. The year ended with me at 19, in a relationship that I wanted but also didn’t want. It was at the same time fun, exciting, a bit sexy, and a lot of confusing. It was all a part of the experience of growing up.

In the next post, I will go into detail about the other important type of relationship I had in 1996: my friendships. These were the people who shaped who I was, what I liked, and some of the fun memories that still hold a special place in my heart.

Home in 1996

Alternate Life Timelines. #1 - Going Away To College

Getting older means a lot of things. You see and do a lot. You meet people. You lose people. You experience the exciting, the mundane, the exhilarating, and the ordinary. Your body changes. Your mind changes. Where you live? What you do? It’s all a free-flowing sea of days washing over each other.

As I approach 50, I have a unique perspective on my life and life in general. The older you get, the more chances you have had to travel down different paths. These might not be physical paths. You might not even have traveled far from where you grew up. Time does lend itself to creating different chapters of your life.

In some ways, life becomes like one of those Choose Your Own Adventure books. The decisions you make have ripple effects throughout your life. If you do this, then that happens. What about the decisions or events that could have happened but didn’t? Those are going to be the purpose of this series of articles.

I will be looking back at the nearly 50 years of my life and finding the seminal moments that either did, or could have, changed the course of my existence. I will expand on them using my best intuition as to what the probable outcome would have been.

You can easily do this as well and likely already do. Everyone thinks back to moments that could have changed their lives. If you didn’t meet someone. If that car in the other lane hadn’t swerved in time. If you had chosen to take that job. These articles won’t be so much about rehashing regrets. They are more of an interesting look at how many times in life you are faced with the potential of a big change. What do you do when the opportunity arises?



In order for something to have the greatest ripple effect through your life you need to choose moments from long in the past. The first one that pops into my mind is my choice to not go away to college. This has had an enormous amount of impact on my life.

It was 1996. I was a senior in high school and was, in all honesty, getting burned out on school. I had been an honors, sometimes high honors, student. I had taken my SATs when I was thirteen. I had been invited to genius camp by the prestigious Johns Hopkins University. I worked hard on my education throughout my formative years.

I still had time for friends, but I was also driven to be successful in school. This was likely tied to my own self-worth due to not getting much emotional support in my home life aside from my mother, who was doing the best she could to be both parents. Good grades proved I had value.

When senior year came, most of my friends were looking toward the future, specifically college. I had my eyes on some places. They were lofty expectations, like the University of North Carolina or the University of Nevada – Las Vegas. These were tied to athletics, something that I was not excelling in, and therefore my odds of going to schools like those were slim to none.

Closer schools, like the University of Massachusetts, should have been on my radar since I had family who had gone there. You cannot predict the future, and an event happened during the final few months of high school that threw a wrench into my plans; I got a girlfriend.

This changed my outlook. I hadn’t had a real, serious girlfriend before. My judgment became clouded. She was still going to be in high school after I graduated. I couldn’t leave her, right? I enjoyed the feeling of being in a relationship. Having someone who was so deeply into me was intoxicating. So intoxicating that I couldn’t see, or didn’t want to see, the obvious issue. There was a very, very small chance that we would be the high school sweethearts that lasted into old age. The reality was we weren’t going to make it.

When you’re a teenager, dealing with your first real relationship, you don’t have any experience by which to judge your choices. I chose to back off on my application to colleges. In fact, I decided to not apply at all. I chose to take a semester off from school after graduation.

My mother was supportive, but I am sure she could sense that I was starting to drift in a different direction. My life was no longer going to be filled with education. It was about my relationship. I did end up going to college after taking a semester off, and that plan still happened. However, I didn’t go out of state. I barely traveled from my home. I signed up for classes at Cape Cod Community College for the spring semester in 1997.

It is a great school and a boon to the Cape, but compared to how my future had looked a year earlier, it had to be seen as a step down. I took classes in graphic design, journalism, and creative writing, among others. These were all things I wanted to become good at for a creative career. Looking back, though, I was all over the map. I had no definitive path for my education. This is why my major was communications.

To no one’s surprise, my relationship did not last. After 2 ½ years, we broke up. I was devastated, even though I had brought the breakup on myself. That left me heartbroken and wandering through college with no real drive. Not to mention that I had been taking fewer classes per semester than was necessary.

I did that to have time to work and also spend time with my girlfriend. What it meant was that when my two years at community college were finished, I did not have enough credits to get a 2-year degree. I was deflated. It took all of my willpower just to keep going in college to get to that magical two-year mark. After that, I could take a breath and see where I wanted to go. Maybe it wasn’t too late to go to UMass or somewhere else.

None of that happened. I sank into a deep depression and gave up on college temporarily. To escape my sadness and overall frustration at where my life was, I ended up moving to Las Vegas in 2000.

We look at the chain of events from my choice to not go away to college. I lost my drive for education. I settled for a low-risk, low-reward cooking job to pay the bills. I lost a lot of friends because they went away to college. I became resentful of my girlfriend and blamed her for my poor choices in life. Eventually, this led to a breakup, bouts of depression, and ultimately moving across the country to try to find myself before it was too late.

It doesn’t stop with a move to Las Vegas. You can keep the timeline moving forward to anything in the last 25 years that didn’t work out the way I wanted. It truly is the first major regret, major mistake, I made in my adult life.



Now let’s go back. It’s 1996. I am a senior in high school. How would things have changed?

I was already on the fence about going off to college before I met my girlfriend, so we’d have to go back to the beginning of senior year. I have made up my mind that I am going to go to the University of Massachusetts at Dartmouth. It is close enough that I could visit Cape Cod any chance I could get. It was also far enough away that I’d feel like I was on my own.

I’m not saying I wouldn’t have dated the same girl. I believe that if my plans were in motion to go off to college, I would be less apt to break them and stay. In reality, I didn’t have to cancel anything; I just had to not fill out the applications.

Maybe I date my girlfriend. Maybe I don’t. When August 1996 came though, I’d be packing up and getting ready to head off to college. I likely would have found a dorm roommate from high school classmates who were also going to UMass Dartmouth. I know a few who did.

I would have experienced everything that college life had to offer. Living away from home. Parties. New people. It would have taken a bit of adjusting, but being placed in a large, unfamiliar situation would have done wonders for my confidence.

As far as a major went, I’d be looking for a creative field like I did at Cape Cod Community College. Probably not communications, likely something along the lines of creative writing. I wrote for the college newspaper in reality, so I’d probably do it at UMass as well.

The college experience would have better prepared me for social situations in general as I got later into my 20s and 30s. The older I get, the more difficult it becomes to step out of my comfort zone. Succeeding or failing at doing things while in college would have shown me that I would be all right in an unfamiliar environment. Going away to college would have forced me out of my normal routine. The longer I stayed on Cape Cod, the more ingrained the routine became. It’s like stepping into wet cement. You can get out of it, but you have to do so quickly, otherwise you are stuck once it dries.

After four years of college, the sky would have been the limit. I would have graduated in 2000. In reality, by the summer of 2000, I had gone through that terrible breakup, dealt with severe depression, given up on college (temporarily), and decided to move to Las Vegas. In the alternate timeline, none of that would happen.

I might have had breakups and dealt with depression, but I would have been able to look at what I was doing in college and hope that any suffering would pay off. I do believe I would have pulled through any adversity. In the alternate timeline, I might have been getting burned out on school, but I never took my foot off the gas. That is the biggest regret.

When you have momentum in anything, it’s easier to just keep going than it is to stop and try to start again later. In this timeline, I keep going. Even if I don’t become the absolute best I could be, I would not have the doubts and self-loathing that grew inside of me in my early 20s. It’s hard to shake the feeling that you’re a failure.



The view from 20,000 feet shows a massive change in my life and my identity as a person. No high school girlfriend means no messy breakup, which means I don’t feel a desperate need to find love anywhere. This had serious effects on my confidence. Going away to college means I don’t settle for the low-risk job that I ended up spending way too many years at. Comfort does not always equal happiness.

Graduating from college with whatever degree means I have a wide open playing field in which to ply my trade. Maybe I do end up in Las Vegas, but with a college degree. This would mean not grabbing the first low-paying job I could find just so I wouldn’t be broke while I went to college out there. Or maybe I end up somewhere totally different, with totally new people and experiences that take me further and further from Cape Cod.

Maybe I make connections elsewhere. Maybe I meet my soulmate in a town I don’t even know exists. Maybe I get married, have kids, own a house, all things I do not have in my reality. I am sure I would find time to visit home, but it would not be nearly the same as reality.

This brings me to the things I would have missed out on if my life had gone down this other path. First and foremost, I would have drifted away from my family. Not out of spite, but due to time, distance, and my own schedule. I would not have been there for the births of my two older nieces. I would not have had the close bond with them when they were growing up. That right there eliminates most of the regret I feel about not going off to college.

I would not have seen my Grampa as the role model and hero that he became. I grew to appreciate him more as I got into my later 20s and 30s. If I am not close by, I probably find my role models in celebrities or strangers. Who knows what that means for me as a person?

Then other things may or may not have still happened. Do I get a book published, or as it stands now, ten? Do I get deep into fitness and get into the best shape of my life in my mid 30s? Or do I end up overweight with various health issues that I don’t have to worry about in reality? It’s things like that which you take for granted.



So, to sum up this first alternate timeline, where do I think I’d be at this stage of my life if I had chosen to go away to college right after high school? Obviously, there’s a difference between what I’d want for a life and what I truly believe. For me, I think what I’d want and believe wouldn’t be that far apart.

At Age 48 in this alternate timeline, I could see myself living somewhere like Southern California. Not Los Angeles or San Diego, I don’t like cities. It would be a mid-sized town, probably slightly inland and somewhere halfway between San Francisco and Los Angeles.

I don’t think I’d be an author, but I’d be working in some creative field. Despite being a writer, podcaster, etc. I have learned many ancillary skills like editing, research, and story development. I could see myself finding steady, good-paying work, maybe not in my dream job, but a suburb of my dream job.

I believe that I have good genes. I would still likely be in halfway decent shape physically and probably better shape emotionally. The experiences, both good and bad, of college would have better prepared me for being an adult.

I would be married. Is it my first? Who knows. I know not all marriages make it. I also would know if I found love once I could find it again, so I wouldn’t close myself off like I tend to do in reality. Kids? I believe I’d have two. I’d hope for a boy and a girl, Michael and Jocelyn, but two of the same would be just as good.

In reality, I have been chasing my dreams as an author and creator for so long. The idea of letting them go to pursue a ‘normal’ life hasn’t sounded appealing. Having gone to college for a specific major would give me the purpose I have been chasing. I’d find a job and meet new people. Maybe I meet ‘the one,’ and we get married and have kids.

Or maybe I hit a bump in life that throws me off course, and I end up living in a shack in the woods with a beard I have to stuff into my pants, so I don’t trip over it. This is all a guessing game.

In the end, it is a fun and somewhat enlightening exercise to look at where I think I would be in life if I had gone away to college in 1996. What I always come back to is that there has to be a reason why I am where I am and who I am at this point in my life. I might briefly wonder what might have been, but I can’t live there.

“Wanting to be someone else is a waste of the person you are.” – Kurt Cobain


See you in the next alternate timeline.

1996 Changed Everything: Pt. 3 - The Message of the Music

This is going to be a series of articles about 1996, as it holds significance for me since it was the year I graduated high school. In this second article, I look at the music of the day and how it impacted my life then and still does today.

1996 in many ways, was a tale of two halves. The first half was all about me trying to finish strong as my senior year of high school drew to a close. The second half was a recalibration. The seemingly endless grind of school had ended. Sure, there was college on the horizon, but for all intents and purposes, that was voluntary.

What I didn’t know then but know all too well now is that when you go hard for a long time, you get calloused. Your body and brain get used to the grind. Once you take your foot off the gas, it’s hard to get the motor running again, or the motivation to do so.

Looking back, it makes the second half of 1996, mostly the fall into winter, a bit of a blind spot in my life. Senior year and all of the events surrounding graduation are seared into my brain thirty years later. That final summer on Cape Cod with my closest friends before they left for college is one of my most cherished memories of my life. Until the actual days they left to start new chapters in their lives, the reality of the situation didn’t set in.

In my world, 1996 still revolved around Grunge music, although now it was a post-Grunge Alternative music world. Long gone was Nirvana as Kurt Cobain had symbolically ended Grunge with his death in April 1994. That didn’t mean that Nirvana’s music wasn’t still a huge part of me and my identity.

The teenage angst that Kurt wrote about in his lyrics only grew stronger in me as the prospect of entering a new phase of life grew closer. My interest in lyric writing, more along the lines of poetry, began early in 1996. However, it was not a Nirvana song that inspired me to jot down my innermost thoughts and feelings. No, it was a real-life event that happened at my school.

As you read in my last article, my English teacher, one of the favorites I ever had, was fired from his job for allegedly soliciting a student to appear in an adult film he was producing. When inspiration strikes, sometimes it comes from the weirdest places.

To process the events surrounding our teacher, affectionately nicknamed Bubba, I bought a steno pad and got to writing. I can clearly remember sitting in my bedroom adorned with posters of musicians and sports heroes alongside my closest friend, Barry, and working on lyrics to a song about what was still a fluid situation at the time.

Music had always made me feel. I can remember listening to Queen’s song These Are the Days of Our Lives in 1991 and getting overwhelmed by its message of looking back on life as you age. I was 14 then and had music making me think and feel beyond my years.

Writing lyrics, or poetry, to certain music made me feel more like an artist. In the first half of 1996, the inspiration came from my Grunge and Alternative roots. Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Alice In Chains, Soundgarden, and others filled my brain.

It was an interesting contrast to try to write about teenage problems that were happening in the present while trying to sound like a weathered adult looking back. My initial year of writing poetry was a lot of simple, sometimes cringe-worthy, attempts at rhyming and explanations of life. College and the music I was exposed to would drastically improve my writing. Well, that and a surplus of new problems.

The music I tried to write to also served another purpose. It was a conduit for creative expression. A dream I had been trying to cultivate in the 1990s was that of being a filmmaker. I wanted to create worlds and share them. I spent around $800 of my savings in 1994 to purchase a bulky camcorder from Sears. That’s equal to just over $1,700 when adjusted for inflation to 2026.

That camcorder got used pretty much daily. By the time it kicked the bucket sometime in late 1997, I had recorded somewhere in the neighborhood of 65 hours of VHS tapes. There were skits, there were family holidays, and random, pointless moments that I captured that I cherish to this day.

The same model camcorder I owned in the 1990s

A major part of those VHS tapes is the music video. Simple, really, my friends and I set up my camcorder, played a song on a stereo, and performed it on camera. In today’s world, we’d call this low-hanging fruit for content. The videos all had a similar vibe. Teenage boys in the mid-1990s jamming out to songs they loved.

We did have our favorites. Nirvana ended up having nearly their entire catalog turned into music videos on my camcorder. It was a who’s who of Grunge, Alternative, and straight-up Rock music. Every now and then, we might switch it up and do something foolish to make ourselves laugh like Milli Vanilli, Color Me Badd, or the Brady Bunch theme. Of course, most of the videos are embarrassing to watch today, but we were kids, what do you want?

It’s a fascinating time capsule to look back at the week I graduated high school in early June 1996 and see what the music charts had to offer. Tha Crossroads by Bone Thugs-n-Harmony was #1. It was eerie as the song talks about losing a friend. Now, we were losing friends as we went our separate ways for college, not death, but still, it was fitting.

The rest of the Top 10 that week was populated by stalwarts like Mariah Carey, Celine Dion, Alanis Morissette, Toni Braxton, SWV, Metallica, and George Michael.

In general, music was trending away from the Grunge-Alt movement and into more polished pop, dance, boy bands, and that song they beat into the ground, ‘Macarena.’ That song debuted right around the time I graduated and dominated the airwaves for the next year or more. I even had to do that foolish dance when at my orientation on my first day of college.

After school ended, my main connection to music came on two fronts: my job and my girlfriend.

I worked as a prep cook at a local restaurant during high school. I was lucky to have a coworker who was a friend and more like a brother at times. We were the same age within a few days, and we had similar tastes in music. What I liked a lot about Liam was that we were just different enough that he might turn me on to a different band, and if he didn’t like something, he had good explanations and not just ‘it sucks.’

I made mixtapes (yes, tapes) called Prep Boys Rock that we would play while working. It was a lot of what I’ve already mentioned, except with maybe a little more REM. We played music loudly, sometimes to the detriment of our job, but again, we were teenagers, what would you expect? Here is a Spotify playlist of some of those classics from the mixtapes.


 

There was a time our music was so loud that we couldn’t hear someone calling to us to bring something to the kitchen. That didn’t go over well with the guy who was a crusty old 60-something who didn’t have time for us crazy GenX kids. He stormed into our prep room, literally tore the radio out of the wall, and took it. We acted worried, but as soon as he left, we made fun of him for the rest of the day, and honestly, still to this day.

It wasn’t all mixtapes. Sometimes we’d get tired of the same old, and we’d listen to the radio. Now we’ll get very specific to where I grew up on Cape Cod. We had some classic stations on the air in the mid-90s, like Rock 104.7 and Pixy 103 (both rock), 96.3 the Rose, and 106 WCOD (both Top 40). But Liam and I tended to choose the stations that felt like they were speaking to us, like Underground 93.5. It was the alternative we enjoyed with up-and-coming bands we might not have heard of yet.

The other connection to music in the back half of 1996 was my girlfriend at the time. I was trying to share my world with her, and the best way I could do that was by sharing the music that made me feel alive. I turned her on to some of the alternative that shaped me. I made her introduction to alternative music mixtapes. For a teenager who didn’t know how to express vulnerable emotions well, sharing music became a love language.

She was one of the select few in my life that I sang for. I always loved to sing, and think I inherited a pretty good voice from my Grampa, who was a jazz singer. So I would put on these concerts where I’d sing a song or two like I was some sort of celebrity. Again, it was a love language to share something so few saw, or in this case, heard.

I turned her on to Stone Temple Pilots, especially. She loved Scott Weiland. In fact, we ended up going to see them in concert later on November 30, 1996. This was only a handful of shows before Weiland got busted for drugs and was eventually thrown in jail, with the tour being canceled.

Concerts were the big new shiny thing for me in 1996. Getting to travel and see bands I loved perform live was something that blew my mind. The first concert I ever attended was AC/DC on March 19, 1996, at Boston’s FleetCenter. It changed my life.

I went with my friends Dan, Pete, and James (aka Butch). It was so liberating to be on our own despite still being in high school. There might have been a little smoke in the car, but for the most part, we were responsible.

My introduction to live music began with Beavis and Butthead on the big screen, segueing into Back In Black, shattering my eardrums. AC/DC was one of the loudest live bands, and I had the proof. For the next three days, it felt like I was wearing heavy earmuffs due to how that music had slapped my ears silly. To this day, I am surprised at how good my hearing still is. I hope I didn’t jinx myself.

I mentioned at the top of this blog that the second half of 1996 has become a bit of a blind spot in my life. I had been going nonstop with school, and as Senior Year wound down, I made a choice to not go away to college. I chose to stay behind and, after taking a semester off, begin my college journey at the local Cape Cod Community College. Why? Possibly burnout, stress, confusion, and the biggest reason, my girlfriend. I will get deeper into that part in the next blog, though.

It’s interesting for me to go back to that time. I know I lived those days, and yet nothing stands out. I believe part of the reason was that as soon as I stopped grinding at school, my mind collapsed in a heap. Not having to be in a constant state of readiness swung me in the opposite direction, and I became soft and lazy. Yes, I was working, but what else?

By the time September rolled around, the vast majority of my friends were gone to their next chapters of life, some never to return. I felt like I hit pause, and once I started up again, I had to try to run to catch up.

I graduated from high school and, within a year, was slam dunked into confusion and desperation about my place in the world. I wasn’t even 20 and was in the quarter-life crisis mode. To this day, I find one of my biggest regrets in life was not going away to college immediately. That stepping off the gas pedal made it easier for me to coast. I don’t think I quite realized that I had shot myself in the foot with my choice to pause my education to bask in the glow of couple’s life.

I look back at the songs that captured my state of mind as 1996 drew to a close. The confusing new releases from Pearl Jam (No Code), Weezer (Pinkerton), and REM (New Adventures In Hi-Fi) seemed to perfectly reflect my own state of mind. The party was ending, but I had only noticed the crowds leaving once my voice was the one left echoing across an empty room.

Music would ease my mind, and it would also influence my writing as I tried to put into words changes I didn’t fully understand. Life was changing faster than I was ready for. January 1996 saw me as a high school student getting ready for the real world. In December 1996, I was in the real world, standing at the starting line and watching it disappear onto the horizon, all while familiar bands played the soundtrack.

The seemingly infinite horizon can be liberating and terrifying all at once.

2000: My Life In Poetry Form(Part 3) - Throwback Thursday

 

This is a weekly recurring series featuring five poems all written within the same calendar year. They capture a sense of what my life and mind were like at a certain age and show the evolution of my life, mind, and writing style. We are returning to 2000, a new century. I was deep in the Quarter-Life Crisis, turning 22 years old, and moving from Cape Cod to Las Vegas, looking for a new life.

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Almost Free

Feeling like a stranger, feeling like an outcast in my own home. The scenery, once so beautiful, now turns dark, gray, and cold. Looks like a place I know, but I sense that I don’t belong. Inside myself these visions collect, slowly I digest them and painfully it all makes sense. Nothing is the same though I haven’t changed. Seems everyone is moving on, everything is moving away and I don’t know how to make it come back. Thought they’d ask if I were scared, nothing was the sound, guess they’ve forgotten I’m here. Stopped for a moment in a room I once believed to be my own, the life I know is sealed and packed away, suppose they think I’m gone. Did I sell my soul by choosing this path, is this purgatory, have I committed an unforgivable sin? Setting free the expectations, letting go of my frustrations, opens doors to the dreams I have to live by. The price I pay for peeling myself off these walls is my not-so-subtle isolation, a banishment to rinse me from their minds. Do I not exist, is another readying to step into my world here? In between said and done lies a lucid time bomb, ticking, ready to scatter these pieces of life I’ve collected in every direction. I can see the end growing large, a shadow so dark it swallows what it overtakes. Slowly, things I’ve known fall, some fight, some jump in, I’ve no alternative but to seek shelter deep in my own skin. A stranger to everyone but myself, when a connection inside is clear there’s no need for codependency. This I see, that which once was real, I can erase from my slate, and fill it again new and far from here. Just sand running through the hourglass, so my chapter ends, there’s more to life than just one sad story, many more will be written, and soon enough my hourglass will turn over again.

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Desert Sky

You’re going fast, cause you’ve got somewhere to go. It won’t last, all you hold in your hand soon will pass. You’re catching up, but the scenery pulls further away. You’ve been stoned, but you’re only high in your imagination. Looking dumb, looking up to see what’s falling down on you. The waves of blinking lights hypnotize you into thinking everything’s all right. But in the day the lights fade and you’re feeling like a funeral parade. It’s sinking in, overheating from the cold air. The bluest eyes and clasping hands speak to whoever’s there. The desert sky doesn’t blink or wave it only hides the night. The desert sky gives you faith in your unborn wings and hope that you can fly. The desert sky will trade your gold for magic beans but there’s no rain for them to grow. The desert sky, oh my the desert sky will never cry.

You come back down when it’s convenient for you. The words are so false but you try to pain them true. Aiming so high but you’re digging for love with a plastic spoon. Riding the wind but time’s got you down on your knees. On the road but it feels like it’s on you, under your own feet and floating over your head. Sing notes with passing clouds, wondering how it got so loud. Cover your ears cause you fear what it’s saying. Washed clean by a rainbow’s tears, the uphill climb to regaining those years. The desert sky is what you’ve been missing. That cool breeze you’re kissing on that stretch of road you’re wishing. The desert sky won’t ever leave once you know its name. The desert sky breathes fire like a devil could it be they’re one and the same? The desert sky, oh my the desert sky will never cry.

If you couldn’t open your eyes what would you see? If you lived alone would you really be free? If you broke the chains would you still be a prisoner? If you had a million dollars, would you really be rich? If you had fame and fortune, would you truly be happy? If you lived forever, would you be forever young? Sometimes we think we need it all to survive when we need just enough. Just enough to survive under the desert sky.

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Rebirth of An Enigmatic Soul

I feel free, I feel alive, standing tall with arms outstretched and electricity flowing from my fingertips. I move like a cloud over the asphalt ground. The warm air smells fresh, I believe there’s a change coming on, now I can embrace its beautiful touch. A perfect balance of heaven and earth washes together, giving glimmers of hope to the saddest souls. It shows how high we can be lifted, the gift of witnessing how the world should always be. Life is now, love’s eternal light shining, this dream is real.

Only now is all peaceful and calm. The wind brushes by like an enigmatic soul, in a whisper tumbling over the shadowed green hills. It catches flight on wings of butterflies and carries them off across the newborn forest floor. Sun-ripened beauty fills each once lonely branch. I feel the hands caress my face and I’m flying. A rebirth of youth has occurred, I feel strong, I feel alive. Floating like a feather fallen from an angel’s wing, the centerpiece of an unreal scene. A painting only possible in the deepest undisturbed cleansing dreams.

Am I asleep? If so let me stay this way. If I’m awake can it always be like this? The peace outside builds inside my mind. The surreal clichés only used before in fiction, come to life around me and in my eyes. At least right now, if only momentarily, all my wildest dreams and fantasies are fulfilled.

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Sour Annie

Oh my dear Annie, you walk with a swagger, a cross between heaven and sin.

And when you speak, your tongue pierces me, a silver sword to my heart.

I can’t catch my breath, you’re above all the rest.

But you play with me like a ball of string. Unravel me for your pleasure, knot me up to keep me from slipping out of your hands.

Why are you so cruel, why is your heart cold?

Who makes your eyes shine, what makes you sing, where is the antidote for the sorrow you bring?

Well Annie, I’ve done all I can, now I’ve got to walk.

Sorry, sour Annie, girl, I was just trying to reach you...

Don’t put the blame on me, you’ve done all this before.

Don’t put the blame on me, I wanted to reach you but you pulled away.

I wanted once to look in your eyes and see straight into your mind.

I don’t think anyone can see that far in the darkness.

What’s that you say, wanting my help as the steel meshes in with your skin.

What’s that you want, a hand to hold, to bite off my fingers.

Sorry Annie, don’t wanna be you.

Sour Annie, wanna be in you.

Come on Annie, come on and punch a hole in the sky.

Tired of reaching, now gotta push you away.

Girl, I just wanted to reach you...

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1999: My Life In Poetry Form(Part 3) - Throwback Thursday

 

This is a weekly recurring series featuring 5 poems all written within the same calendar year. They capture a sense of what my life and my mind were like at a certain age. It will also show the evolution of my life, mind, and writing style. We return to 1999. I was still in college but was rapidly approaching the Quarter-Life Crisis turning 21 years old.

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Chips, Beer, and Boredom

Bored with life, nothing’s happening. Time is a mile-long journey per second, or so it seems. The silence of sound is deafening, but could it be any louder? It’s weird how the deadest of silence feels more intense than massive noise.

Bored with progress, everything is stalled. Need to kick start today, or get ahead on tomorrow. Bubbling under the lazy man’s face is the soul filled with lightning, flashing, and waiting for something to race. But in this dull and slow-paced world, it lay dormant; perhaps it will never reveal itself. A loud crash, not shaking me from this path I’m on. A compass with a predetermined destination can’t juggle fate, can’t change expectations.

Bored with it all, the cry of the feeble-minded. There’s always a way, just need to look with the mind, not just the eyes. Sinking in before it’s too late, color the air blind to avoid the realization of self-destruction. Thought the slate was cleaned for me, looks like I’ll have to do it myself. Being bored is bad for your health.

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I Fell

Once I fell in love, glasses and pigtails, all her world I felt in a hug. She a part-time interest with the miles to prove so. Spend 24/7 for 365 to get that one glimpse to keep me alive. The minutes we had together were minutes heaven sent. Months in between, I spent missing her, I thought was time well spent. But then I grew up. The letters and pictures that further disconnected her image from my mind couldn’t fill the hole. Didn’t want to hold on to hope, to hang on like a fool to the feelings for the sake of them. So I let go, and I moved on, to find out what lay up ahead.

Once I fell in love, bright eyes masking sunshine, blonde hair, couldn’t help but stare. She would stay a prisoner in my mind, with images emblazoned by the masses, it seemed to be the right time. Wanted so badly to be that guy, just a kid myself, to be him was not right. Shining armor with a backpack besides, guess when it’s perfection you’re thinking, the flaws are what decide. But then I wised up. Dreams of a place I’d never see weighed too heavy to stop from being free. Couldn’t stand the backward thoughts she felt, wouldn’t wait until she came around. Took me a while, but I walked on, left that door locked to keep the memories as just that, left ‘em all behind.

Once I fell in lust, thrown together oil and water, mix to fix and force the sense. Day after week after month spent trying to show false feelings and give in to lying. Saved her soul by being a hero, pedestal the excuse to stay near her. Made myself believe what wasn’t true, she was an option to being alone, just a time killer, only a space filler. But then I sobered up. Rays of light broken drunken spells, swallowed on mortality, grew the balls to let it fall away. I thought it was painful, a 180 to convince what was once unreachable, but I lived on. Hold was let go, mistakes and words unspoken, finally freedom welcomed me.

Once I fell in love, a seemingly untouchable goddess. She a ladder to heaven, blind eyes to my bruised senses. This love beat me into submission, her shake and twist led to heartfelt admissions. Sat and waited, empty bottle with a half-full glass. Sense from nonsense, knowledge from ignorance. Then I gathered up the words key to open my cell. So I marched on, up to her and revealed my identity, true expression, the lasting impression. Like a million pounds lifted, my feather in the wind floating body carried away with her response. I lived a hundred lifetimes for what I have right now, the time I fell in love with someone who loved me too.

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Recyclable Tupperware

She’s breakin’ up with me on my deathbed. Says time’s come to think about herself. It couldn’t wait another minute. She’s my savior, I’m her plague, and her loving pain’s pushed me to the limit.

She can’t cash in on a will I haven’t signed.

She can’t deny that her love for me has declined.

She wants me to climb her thorny vines.

She wants me to taste her rose garden.

But she won’t tell me that I’m okay.

She’s breakin’ up with me on my deathbed. Says we’ve grown apart in the last few hours. It couldn’t wait another minute. She’s my queen, I’m her pawn, and her hands are so gentle as she tears my heart out.

She melts my resolve with her eyes.

She leaves me stranded in a dream.

She’s chasing me down a dead-end street.

I stop to look behind and she runs away.

But she’ll chase again when I decide to run.

She’s breakin’ up with me on my deathbed. Says time’s come to move on. It couldn’t wait another minute. She’s my china, I’m her Tupperware, and she turns on the generator after pulling the plug, but she won’t tell me she loves me.

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Three Chord Romance

Tonight it feels like forever’s not long enough.

Tonight feels like I’ll never let go.

I believe in the fantasies and the words we dare not say.

Tonight is all rolled into one, dreams for which we pray.

You were there through this fantastic journey I made, you remained,

when the silence of the night crept in you stayed.

I believe I found it in your smile, brightly lit, asking me to stay a while.

I’d like to keep it simple right now, don’t want you to get the wrong idea,

but I’m not sure if I want the right one to slip out yet.

I got caught in the middle of confessions, deepest revelations,

the rest was swept away with the brush of your hair.

For now I’m stuck with half a thought that doesn’t make any sense.

You knowing the truth, the secret being out, 

would take the magic from my daydreams.

So many times I whispered your name into the trees and hoped it’d carry to you on the hint of a summer’s breeze.

If in our bliss the moon should fall, we’ll pick it back up,

put on a pedestal of stones thrown and collected.

Then we’ll lie in the shadows, a future of flowering meadows,

and let time drift by with the clouds.

Even when you have to go, the pain I feel helps my spirit grow,

cause if the first time never ends, how can the next time ever begin?

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1997-1998: My Life In Poetry Form - Throwback Thursday

 

This is a weekly recurring series featuring 5 poems all written within the same calendar year. They capture a sense of what my life and my mind were like at a certain age. It will also show the evolution of my life, mind, and writing style. We have come back around to 1997 and 1998. I was in college and was 19 and 20 years old.

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No Two Are the Same

What is love? Can someone explain?

How does it let in the sun, but cloud our eyes with pouring rain?

Feel it, deep inside, is a warmth to heal the coldest soul.

Seal it, fate, stabbing pains conquer like a thousand steely thorns.

What is love? Can someone tell me?

How do we earn this gift, then piss it away as an excuse to get burned?

Calms you, soothes your mind, peaceful as a cool autumn wind.

Disarms you, drains our sight, violent as the weakness of sin.

What is love? Can someone open my eyes?

Where do we find the right to use it, 

and then lose grip with the wrongs to abuse it?

Clears out, the darkness escapes, exposing the light we hide in our souls.

Fears shout, weakness comes forward to open wounds like the deepest black hole.

I know what love is. I’ll tell you it’s all that’s divine.

Contains the most sensual of touches, an inner beauty so fine.

Helps the helpless go on, makes the longest of waits seconds.

Holds us up high above the river, where heartache on the waves crest.

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Dream Catcher

Dream catcher, catch me a good life.

Dream catcher, bring me a good wife.

Dream catcher, show me the way home.

Oh please don’t let me live alone.

Dream catcher, come on and show me, all the things I’ve yet to see.

Show my eyes all I can be, all I need to be is me.

Dream catcher, don’t break my heart.

Just give me a beautiful place to start.

Dream catcher, capture a moment, in time to make me fly high above the clouds in the sky.

Dream catcher, solve my problems, give me the answers to questions why.

You’ve got to take my heart out from this world.

Take my heart to that one special girl.

Take my heart and fill it with love.

Take my heart, all I need to be is me.

Dream catcher, give me a sign.

Where I’ll be going in time.

Tortured spirit or kindly divine.

Dream catcher, I’ll know what’s mine.

Soft lights, gentle sound, perfect feelings all around, she is there, sweet love we’ll make.

Oh dream catcher, I never want to wake, I never want to wake, never want to wake

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Forget to Remember

Tide rolls, rolls away, pieces of life remain for strangers to claim,

you or I, we’re all the same.

Is my life to be collected and passed on, or swallowed back into the deep?

The sky closes in, perched above my head to steal the bits and pieces still yet unclaimed.

Don’t forget to remember, the pieces were once you, were once me.

Don’t forget to remember always I am here, pieces uncollected, memories reflected, mirror claims your face, time gets the rest of what’s left.

Wash away, a distant face, clear to gray now out of place.

Once I was a man, footsteps marking the earth,

now my existence is inked with papered words.

When you arrive with me don’t forget to remember all glittering stars fade away,

the most concrete wishes are turned to clay.

Don’t forget to remember, always I am with you.

Blinded eyes see through time, these invisible hands will hold you when you cry.

Don’t forget to remember to look for me in the sky.

Dry up tears of grief, pain will leave when memories return to claim their space.

Will I be remembered here and now for then,

can you keep me alive through smiles and laughs of things I did back when?

When I am gone don’t forget to remember, sunshine, blue sky, who loved you, and why.

Don’t forget to remember not to cry, I see you, live you, breathe you from here.

Give a chance to playing the game of life again,

play for keeps don’t look back for an answer placed right before your eyes.

Don’t forget to remember me, and you’ll know why.

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Miss You

Sometimes I wonder how you are at night. Do your brown eyes still shimmer like they’re absorbing the moonlight? Do you think of me, do you wonder if I’m all right? You always seemed to know me best, every beat of your heart I felt in my chest. I would give anything to see you again as a hovering shadow as the sun parts the waves of the sea. Flash a mirror smile toward me, it’s the very essence of all I’ll ever be. You can turn on the light in my heart with beauty that can bring a tear to my eye. I don’t remember, where the colors changed from right to wrong. I’d never felt good enough for you all along. I found myself in what you told me, saw for the first time with the love you showed me. Enlightened in sorrow, cleared out for tomorrow, but I guess you like it in there.

I wish you understood, if you could hear my thoughts when I’m alone. Hear my begging and my pleas, hopes and dreams, and the one image in which I still believe. I must love you because it burns me black that you’re not here. To know you deserve something better, to know I need someone like you, to believe so deeply you’ve found the one and still be turned away. Peace, love, and happiness are all I want for you to feel. I’m tired of being down, beating myself up for being scared. I’m tired of being alone. Without you I’m not all I could be. I’m lost and you’re the guide. We need each other, need to find each other, hold on to each other, through the night and beyond.

I need to say I miss you until I’ve gone numb from heartache. I wish you were here now, I let this happen it was my mistake. You need to know that wherever you go you can always call on me and I’ll be there. I pray until the words grow old, pray you will catch wind of these cries. See through the shield of insecurity, catch sight of my heart and soul’s purity. Most of all I need to say how much I love you. It’s more beautiful than a pearl from the deepest ocean floor. I need you. You’ve captured my all and everything too and there’s nothing I want more. I want you. I’d forget the past and remember nothing but your love and feel as wealthy as a king in a golden castle. We need each other, as we are two halves of the same one. There’s a chance, for you and me, for us and all we’ll ever be. A heartbeat in two rhythms. There’s hope, we’ll be together, as one, no pressure, you deserve only all I can give. No fear, no lies, just you and I, no reason for goodbyes. Just the thought of you lying next to me gives me all I need to be alive.

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Initial Impressions 2.0 Blog #73: Closure, Train Dodging, Vanity Plates, etc.

1. Closure is a funny thing. You can be searching for it for almost 20 years and still not be prepared when you finally get it. I was going through a journal I had written when I was in the most important relationship of my life 20 years ago. For so long after it ended, I had been unable to find her and never was able to get closure. It was a constant loose end that needed tying up. Amazingly, I got that closure this past weekend. After years of searching, I eventually found her through a simple Google search. Not sure what changed but earlier in the same day I had put it out into the universe that I wanted to find her. Sure, that hadn’t worked before but I always try. I’ll just say that she is happy in the life she has, and that makes me happy. If you want to know the full story, I wrote about it. Here is the link: https://christophersetterlund.blogspot.com/2025/06/peaceful-emptiness-finding-closure.html


2. Any time I visit the local college library it’s like my brain goes into serious mode. I feel like I write better when I am there. I wish it were closer. Granted it’s a 15-20 minute drive, but I’d go write there more often if it were closer. It’s like I sit at a desk on one of the quiet studying floors, and my brain tries to fit in with all of the people continuing their education. I can write well at home, but I tend to get distracted by surfing the web way more. It’s like I don’t want to be seen doing that at the college.


3. There was a hilarious interaction with a chipmunk this week. I was heading out the front door and spooked a little chipmunk. Rather than running around the side of the house instead it dove into the gutter spout. I could hear it trying to climb up in the gutter but eventually slipping down. Next, I spotted its little face sticking out of the drain, hoping I would leave. I took a step toward the gutter and the chipmunk squeaked and again tried to climb up the inside of the gutter. This time I could hear it squeaking inside like it was cursing me out. Again, it poked its head out but I had my fun and left it alone.


4. I am super excited for the return of King of the Hill. I was a big fan of the show during its initial run from 1997-2009. A revival in the form of a 14th season is set to drop in the first week of August on Hulu. I have been waiting for a reason to do a free trial of Hulu, and oh boy, this will be it. If you’ve never seen King of the Hill it was created by Mike Judge who did Beavis & Butthead, and Greg Daniels who helped create the American version of The Office. It’s got bits of both shows, but a lot that is different. My hope is that the new episodes will live up to the hype, but I’ll be happy just to see everyone back and aged somewhat.

5. While out for a walk, I was in a beautiful, quiet neighborhood not far from me. I had a podcast on, so I could also hear the sounds of nature. I thought I heard muffled dog barks, so I stopped. I have had instances where a dog has suddenly shown up next to me while I’m walking. The last thing I want is to be attacked by a dog, or to step on one that I don’t see. I saw that two dogs were barking at the bay window of a house. I thought it was funny but the lady in the house didn’t. I could see her yelling at the dogs and then she even pulled the shades down. Sorry dogs.


6. One good dog story deserves another. I was at the beach walking pretty far out on the flats to get away from the crowds. It was so peaceful and nice. I soaked in the atmosphere before returning to the parking lot. As soon as I got close I heard an old man in a pickup truck telling these 2 women that dogs aren’t allowed on the beach in the summer. This is true but many dog owners are selfish and entitled so they don’t care about laws. Anyway, these 2 classy ladies with their disgusting cigarettes and the weathered faces to prove it, started yelling and swearing at the old man. He swore back and gave them the finger while driving away. Me? I just wanted to get to my car without making eye contact with those trash bags.

Not seen, the trashy 'ladies' with their dogs on the beach.

7. In most weeks, the return of King of the Hill would have been the biggest news for me. Then, a few days later, it is matched by the return of Spaceballs in 2027 for the 40th anniversary. As a child of the 80s, this is like a Schwartz ray right to my nuts, in a good way, if there is one. The trailer is basic so I can’t wait to see an actual preview with as many of the actors returning. Sadly, there won’t be John Candy or Joan Rivers but there will be Rick Moranis, Bill Pullman, and hopefully Mel Brooks, who is 99 years young now. May the Schwartz be with us all!


8. When I was younger, I had aspirations of getting some sort of vanity license plate. I figured something like my initials, ‘CJS.’ It never happened. That being said I do enjoy seeing what people choose to put on their vanity plates. Many are initials but then every now and then I see one that makes me audibly laugh. I saw a plate that read ‘EIEIOH.’ If you know, you know. But still, Old MacDonald? That’s what you chose for your license plate? Maybe if you were a farmer? This was just some run-of-the-mill pickup truck. Very creative and funny regardless.


9. Shenanigans seem to follow me wherever I go. I went out for an afternoon adventure after it had rained. After a lot of driving, I made my way to a place in Sandwich called Scorton Creek. It’s loaded with trails, marshes, a few abandoned shacks, and it crosses the railroad tracks. I couldn’t find an old abandoned shack I had found years ago. I made my way to the tracks to make better time back into the woods. I filmed a quick video joking that I was living the movie Stand By Me as I walked the tracks. I said if I saw a train, I’d have to dive off the tracks. 30 seconds later, the dinner train comes rolling down the tracks. I was in no man’s land. I didn’t know how fast the train was going, and I was at the creek so I was stuck. I had to scale down the embankment and watch as the train passed by, basically right overhead. I don’t think any of the people on the train saw the crazy guy at the bottom of the embankment, but you can be the judge, as I made a video about me jinxing myself. Enjoy.
https://youtube.com/shorts/yVuXXWwtlhg?si=FB2PViWGD_T8Dw20



10. Also during my visit to Scorton Creek. The ground was wet from the day of rain so my shoes quickly got soaked. While on the lookout for the abandoned building, I kept hearing a voice over a loudspeaker coming from somewhere in the distance. At first, it sounded like a graduation where the voice was announcing names alphabetically. Then I started thinking it might have been a graduation party or even a wedding as music was getting played as well. This included The Beatles ‘In My Life’ which made the walk through the woods magical. While walking back to my car, I came across a man walking with his two dogs. I asked him about the voice, and he had no clue. I mentioned my interaction with the train, and he just laughed. Only when he walked past me did it make sense. I could smell the weed he was smoking. He will likely think I was just a dream.


11. Happy Father’s Day to all of the good dads out there. Despite not having a good dad myself, I was blessed to have many great men who I consider second fathers in my life. Granted, it would have been better if the man who helped bring me into this world had given even a D- grade worth of effort to raising me. His karma is living his life now knowing that his actions led to his kids and grandkids wanting nothing to do with him. I cannot change the past but I can look back and look at present-day and feel grateful that I learned how to be a man from some truly good men throughout my life.