Today is the second day of the teacher’s strike. To try to appease the back to school gods, I have posted another excerpt from my coming-of-age memoir. Everyone has a story about facing the generation gap with their parents: this one is mine. I hope you like it.
Slacks
Coming down the third floor stairs, I hear Mom call to me from inside her bedroom. I have been looking for ways to make up with her, so I quickly poke my head into the room and find her sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Listen,” she says to me with no preamble. “I got no money for your school clothes this year.”
I look at her confused. Lack of money is always a complaint, but this comment seems uncomfortably targeted towards me.
“I’m buying for all the others,” Mom says. “You get your dad to take care of you.”
“Dad?” I ask, panic in my voice. I have been avoiding Dad since my failed attempt to steal the car radio from his van, but that’s not what alarms me.
Present Tense 
I remember this piece, Tim. You’ve polished it up and made it shine. I like this rendition quite a bit. I seem to recall you end up with the bomber jacket and wear it on a visit to some chick’s house later on in the tale. Nice writing.
I remember that bomber jacket, I think I ended up with that thing! You have such a vivid memory of such a long time ago and you bring that warm feeling of growing up back to my soul. Thanks for the memories!
Ted, I can’t tell you how pleased I am to read your comments. You’ve breathed a little life into the work I’ve set aside for so long now. Thank you, man. I appreciate it.