Write Your Story

Freshman year and sophomore year, while in New York, just enough to stay eligible to play ball.

Junior year and senior year, when in Arizona, played the game, and looked like a genius, headed to college.

Realized success was knowing the answers. Knowing what the teachers wanted, not actually mastering the material. The tricks, memorization. The systems; I majored in test taking strategies while minoring in learning. When in doubt, select C. The longest answer is false. Circle the little words, like… not, but, always, never, and etc.

College freshman year, I got absolutely crushed, never learned how to learn.

It ended, thud!

I will never know why. For several years we spent hours together, especially during the summer, daily. We built a tree house, “golf course,” bowling alley in the basement, slept outside (summer and winter), went swimming in a neighbor’s pool, drove his parent’s car, illegally, and much more. Then one day playing 1 on 1 basketball I made a comment, “my knee had been hurting.”

He, unexpectedly, threw the ball in my face; to say the least I was stunned. I retrieved the ball. Beat him with a miracle shot and...

...we never spoke or interacted again.

Dear Keith,

Don’t be the compliant child. Don’t follow the rules. Most importantly, like the bumper sticker says, question authority. Someday you will write a novella entitled Living Under the Bleachers.

Understand all that dogma you were trained to bow down to will not make you happy and most of the rules parents laid down, they broke, yet you bought their excuses hook, line, and sinker. Those are the stories that will never be recorded for posterity. Nature or nurture I do not know, but we all have stories. Will yours be built on lies and fear?

Sincerely,

Keith Maynard