It was fifth grade, a time when minds are awakening to so many hormonal and non-hormonal urges.
I remember arguing with a friend, Mark, about whether Russia and the Soviet Union were the same entity. That was pretty heady of us.
I remember my friend Randy quarterbacking our class to a win over the other, and heavily favored, fifth grade class, 12–6.
I remember finding out that Mary Jane liked me (she really liked me!), after she rode her bike so close to mine underneath the oak tree near 19th Street — a tree full of mistletoe.