Chapter 1: The Renaissance of Wonder

Clouds coated the Boston sky like cataracts in the eyes of an insane old dog. The wonderful blue that had once shined behind the clouds seemed lost forever on the hounded features of the city. As my father fifty-fived his Oldsmobile up Route 93 toward the Boston skyline, raindrops crocodiled down the windshield like tears, distorting the foreboding pillars of capitalism, concrete, glass, and steel. With tear warped vision I imagined myself working in one of the countless office buildings, doing the same thing every day for the rest of my life. I wanted no part of that mindless routine. I had just turned twenty-two a month after graduating from college with a degree in sixties literature.

You see, I was finished waiting. I was finished waiting for the movie to begin, for the rest of ...