An experiment in adolescent prose.
I am excited for Christmas. I want a Red Rider BB gun for a present from Santa. I will shoot a target when I get it in the snow. Then my brother and me will go sledding.
I'm excited for Christmas, for it will bring me closer to warm hearts, warm hearths, and Grandma Schenck, a newly minted 90-year-old (or rather, young). For a present, I want to go to Bauer's Shoe Store in Harlan, Iowa, and get some shoes off the clearance rack. With my brother Paul, I will toss a football around. Hopefully noonball will be open, and I will show my dad how I can dunk on a regulation rim. We'll discuss growing up into adults, and moving closer to family, my wife and I's near-poverty (or rather, living on credit). There will be a discussion about politics, and teaching, and it will all be very Schenckian. I will claim to be a "casualty" of teaching, with arguments my aunt Denise has used regarding teaching. I'll go work out at the Myrtue Memorial Fitness Center, where they don't have enough weight for me to push and pull. I might introduce my idea to go to an MFA program after I save a little money. But there's the realities of children and mortgage. Xmas fun.