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Married for fourteen years, John Morgan is the father of two boys, ages eight and five. He serves as the English department chair at St. Catherine’s School where he teaches creative writing. Other than words, he loves vintage drums, cars, and George Harrison's 12-string solos. Follow him on Twitter @johnlmorganiv.

Caving In!

I like those old Coleman magazine ads where the kids stand by the stream with fishing poles, reeling in trout; Mom kneels near the picnic basket, driving in tent stakes; and Dad tugs at the station wagon, loosening the canoe.…

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Hunting for Santa

On a special December Saturday in 1983, Dad woke up early to warm up the Toyota. By seven o’clock, my sister Susan and I were inside the car. Then, we waited for Mom, who perpetually ran late. We needed to…

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The Waiting

The summer of 1986 meant riding my Schwinn Thrasher eight blocks to Lafayette Pharmacy where I cashed in my nickels for a bag of assorted Jolly Ranchers. The loot cost me $1.67, and the trip took a solid twenty minutes…

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Sheepadoodle Do!

Three years ago, I drove to North Carolina, met a stranger through Craigslist, and brought home a Boston terrier puppy. That was the breed of our dog years ago, so obviously, another one would be perfect for two wild boys.…

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Driving Backwards

Our 1972 Toyota Corona station wagon lived a tough life when I was a kid. From the factory, it came with an AM radio and no AC. How much fun can anyone have with that? While other families had Oldsmobile…

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The Real Thing

Atticus, you need a sport.” “Is rock ‘n roll a sport?” We were having a bedtime conversation. But before I answered, I thought about Mick and Keith, who still throw themselves across the stage and do all those high kicks.…

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Renaissance Sleepover

Dad, I want to go to Diamonds Direct.” “Why?” “Because I need a crystal to make a lightsaber.” The engine of any Jedi’s sword is a special gemstone that bottles The Force and turns it into a beam of lethal…

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Fall Boys

As a cadet at VMI, fall made me anxious. While others were tidying up the frat house or skipping that first-period seminar, I was sprinting back to barracks and diving into a window. I had to beat the clock and…

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Fatherhood in Living Color

When I was seven, a wizard came to our house after school one Wednesday. He messed with a few wires, and then handed me a remote control the size of our station wagon’s car jack. The gizmo had just enough…

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