Category Archives: The Troubles

Argh. It seems my Facebook account got hacked. Without warning, my account has been vaporized. I sent notification that it had been hacked within a few minutes, but too late. Oh well. It’s funny that in this day and age, … Continue reading →

I recently watched Hulu’s “Looking for Alaska” based on the book by John Green. I’d been holding off because I didn’t have a subscription and buying the episodes seemed pricey for something I was hesitant about in this day and … Continue reading →

Memoir is supposed to be absolutely true, and yet sometimes it is necessary to change details to protect the innocent and guilty alike. The question that often comes up is just how much do we change? When does the blurring … Continue reading →

It’s been 40 years since I left boarding school, and yet the effects linger. I am unsure of myself, don’t particularly like groups of people, or rules for that matter. I hate that I comply almost always. I’m told to … Continue reading →

The quandary of using real names, dates, places in memoir. Oh, what to do, what to do? Originally, I was going to go full bore headlong into publishing my memoir without a thought to the people in it. Why? Because … Continue reading →

April, 1984. A friend, Charlie we’ll call him, and I were on our way to the Silver Dollar Saloon to meet up with the love of my life at the time Jane, we’ll call her and another friend, Buck we’ll … Continue reading →

When Pink Floyd’s The Wall came out in November 1979, I didn’t like it. Thought it was too disco-like from what little I’d heard on the radio. “We don’t need no education, we don’t need no thought control” were the … Continue reading →

I was 12 years old at my first boarding school, in Ireland. The bump on my head was the result of an older boy putting putting me in a choke hold, lifting me over onto his back, and then letting … Continue reading →

I looked forward to going to boarding school. For me it meant a plane trip, and being a fanatic about airplanes, I was excited to go. I didn’t think of Ireland as a strange place full of strangers. I’d been … Continue reading →

I look pretty silly in this picture. Sure, I was a kid about 11 and had little choice in style or dress, and on this occasion I can only presume I was being forced to go to church. But the … Continue reading →