Fictionalized Interactions with the Son I’m Never Going to Have
“Hey Dad, why do you have a Lillith Fair ticket stub?”
I thought I locked my file cabinet.
“Well, son, there was a time when I thought that no one understood my plight as a suburban, teenage male more than Sarah McLachlan and Erykah Badu. Have you ever given Fumbling Towards Ecstasy a good listen? Let me fire it up,”
“I have to get to lacrosse practice.”
“Lacrosse? Whatever happened to Bridgadoon auditions?”
Screen door slam.
“Listen as the wind blows, from across the great divide…”
