Between the fourth and sixth grades, you are seized by three deep and compulsive obsessions:
Marvel comic books (all things Daredevil and X-Men and Spiderman).
BMX bicycles (yours: a second-hand Mongoose, unwieldy and spray-painted black after you stripped the frame down to its bare chrome-moly tubing).
And video games.
Your parents find all three activities doubtful. Comic books are allowed since they get you reading something else besides MAD magazine and therefore seem remotely educational. And when you’re on your bicycle, you’re out of the house, out of your parents’ way, and doing something sort of athletic, even if the extent of this athletic activity is you and your friends racing up and down Parkway Avenue, seeing whose tires can leave the longest skid, and assembling ramps from plywood scraps. (One day, your friends will shove a few extra bricks under one of these ramps, raising it higher than…
View original post 2,115 more words