"Please, by now you should be sick of me."

Just turned on the radio, and Twisted On Sunday is on its last broadcast. Weird, I remember spending whole afternoons at home, and I was in high school then. Actually, I just finished with high school and I was working on the yearbook and all. My friend Walter and I were convinced we were stuck in midlife crisis. We would head for the nearest donut shop and down cups of bad brewed coffee and discuss Beckett and nihilism. At sixteen. Which means that life ends sometime after thirty-five. At that point in our lives, Twisted was funny and ironic and sarcastic.

I consider this a solid measure of how people change. I don't read the column anymore, I still have some of the books, I still hang out with Wally now and then. But things cannot be more different than now. I will always think of the show as background music to remember adolescent summers by. It was fun while it lasted, even though we were both a bit whacked.