The notion that I’m an asocial recluse has been a recurring gag since Armagideon Time’s inception, and it’s certainly based in reality to a fair degree. I don’t like to travel, for various reasons I’d rather not get into or feel capable of articulating at this time. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy visiting Gettysburg […]
Filed under: autobiography, The Year My Voice Broke | Comments (2)
Nostalgia is all about counting the hits while ignoring the misses. This is especially true with childhood nostalgia, where youthful affections gain intensity over the temporal distance and blot out less pleasant memories. The gap between “what was” and “what we choose to remember” has been a recurring theme over AT’s decade of posts. My […]
Filed under: autobiography, Big Issues, History, The Year My Voice Broke | Comments (3)