crazed.

crazed.

Matthew Broder-ick andhis damned Ferrari.

High school only held so much weight in my heart, and Ferris Bueller’s day off was by far one of the highest peaks on my priority list. Fact is,

I sat jilted on the college track while my friends got the glory of the blue collar classes and everything they entailed,

in auto shop and having sword fights with shovels in agriscience.

hanging out at and smoking

newport menthols

Cutting class was not something I did regularly, mostly because there was nothing to do in town outside of

while blasting tunes through our thirty dollar subwoofers.

Being a high schooler in a dead little country town was one thing, but a

rock and rolland our own personal constructions of the1970s put us in a real pickle.

twitchingSitting,

so we could run for the woods at the edge of campus with the dictionary clutched firmly under one arm.

as soon as the bell rang. We ran from the gates with our shaggy hair and hairless faces to the edge of the woods, catching our breaths and then continuing the trek deeper into the piney wooded lot where we would be safe and

We had done this a few times,

cutting out like prize horses at the Kentucky Derby

out of sight.

this was and ripping a page out of a book to roll up some grass was a mix of Third Reich evil, some sort of false buddhist idealism (in our eyes) and

some kind of untouchable badassery that could not and would not be surpassed.

our eyes glazed quickly and our gazes lingeredin the direction of the brick penitentia-ry where we would be spending our after-noons copying words from the very book we had used to relish in our seventeen-ness.

We would never talk once we crossed the boundary from a casual stroll after calculus to an all out great escape from the confines of that damned place.

reaching that place was like reaching

or some other great force of nature that was beyond us.

detention oozed

for every page we ripped from the oxford condensed, we probably copied ten

under the

improving our vocabulary and getting our kicks.