December, 1991: Colorado Springs. Senior year of high school. 10 degrees below zero and my dog is stuck to the fire hydrant out front. At this point I was making preparations for college and one day decided to take a jaunt to the relatively few comic stores that pepper the stark redneckian landscape.

the Cookian Strait

For a student of such a serious subject as literature that lad is the most incorrigible flibberty-gibbet.

Almost worse were country dances with the school team -Hamilton House, The Gay Gordons, Sir Roger de Coverley, on great occasions publicly on the village green.