It was the winter of my 7th grade year, a Saturday afternoon, and I was skating on the frozen puddle my dad made for us in the backyard. He likely called the grand rink, "Lake Claremont," as he did just about everything in our backyard that involved water and had a diameter over three feet. "Shaaaarooon," my mom yelled from the window, "Phooone Calll." It was a boy, DH. The year prior he was my Kris Kringle and gave me a gold locket and a $1 bill. He had pronounced my new perm, "glamorous." Now he was the first boy to ask me out, "Uh, yeah, do you want to go ice skating some time?" Mortifying. I mumbled that I didn't skate and hung up. An hour later our family went to our routine 5 p.m. Saturday mass, sat front and center in the second pew as usual, and there was DH, the altar boy that night, sneaking peeks at me and pushing up his glasses. I'd wondered if lying in these cases were a sin. It was the pinnacle of pre-adolescent turmoil.
DH called me again last week. He's a police sergeant, ward committeeman, radio host--a veritable "Leonardo da Vinci of our time" as his suspicious Wikipedia entry declares. His Perfectly Harmelss Radio and "The Dave and Chris Show" wanted to interview ghost author and our fellow classmate, Ursula Bielski, on their Friday the 13th show. So, off Lake Claremont Press is going--to the live broadcast from the Three Counties Pub (5856 N. Milwaukee, Chicago), tomorrow from 5 p.m. to 7 p.m. Please join us for the fun! We'll be giving away free copies of Muldoon: A True Chicago Ghost Story to the first 50 guests.