When I spent three months on the island of Crete (very near the labyrinth at Knossos– the Minoan labyrinth), I had a conversation with my parents, during which my dad said to me, “what if you get the call?” This was cited as a reason not to do this outlandish act that involved dropping out of school and priveledging a relationship with a person I had met only three months previously. I needed to answer, “I GOT the call, dad.” And then he probably would have been satisfied.

It reminded me of how my younger brother and I spent endless hours climbing behind upright bleachers (it’s amazing what you could find back there!) and empty high school hallways while my dad coached his basketball team/s. The two activities we always returned to were shooting baskets and trying to find enough change to buy candy in the vending machine. We never really bothered asking dad for the money because the desperation of not being able to succeed was a big part of the fun.

The sad part only came years later when I walked through those same halls and found that the magic we had created was so many times more satisfying than high school.

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