Article Index

Arizona and Utah:

The Adventures Begin;

Or is it ‘The Adventure Begins’?

Many Adventures Will Ensue

But Life Itself is an Adventure—

Wait, That’s way too Haughty

Do You Even Know What Haughty Means?

Anyway, Here’s to Adventuring


 Here's a link to some of the character sketches



Imagine what it was like (or what it will be like) to be a high school senior. The way of life you’ve known for the last dozen years is about to end, and you’ve got almost nothing to show for it: never a date with a cheerleader or a student teacher; never a day free of zit or sweat worries; never the epiphany-like discovery of a career choice; and never, ever a chance to direct the course of human existence.

You’ll likely someday wonder what you’d do if you had it all to do over again. Rest assured that the second time around wouldn’t be any better. You might know more, but little good will that do you when you don’t have the looks, the connections, or the opportunities necessary. Your best line still wouldn’t work on the really cute girls and your best clothes still wouldn’t be cool enough. Don’t believe all the rags-to-riches, makeover-magic, never-be-sad-again teensploitation films. You are not the coolest human being on the face of the earth, and it really does matter.

High school shouldn’t be seen as an entirely worthless time, however. Kids learn how to annoy their elders, cheat in a number of subjects by using any means available, and attend underage drinking parties. Well, maybe the drinking parties themselves are kind of worthless, but parties in general provide a chance for students to interact with one another and increase their chances of attaining either pregnancy or social disease.

Speaking of drinking parties, the heroes of our story had just finished one of their own in the basement of one of their houses. Of course, you must allow a liberal use of the term “party” since this soiree involved two eighteen-year-olds drinking a scavenged six-pack of the cheapest beer an older sister had in her fridge. They did make a few prank phone calls, but that hardly counts as invited guests. So they had a couple of illegal and totally reprehensible drinks in the basement and fell asleep in the same bed—keep in mind it was a king size bed, and their night together was a total hetero-sleepover.

Casey is a slender old kid with a messy head of brown hair and seemingly innocent blue eyes. His most distinguishable feature, however, might be the cluster of acne that often appears around his mouth, and that has helped to make his dermatologist a wealthy woman.

Brian is kind of a stocky kid in fairly good athletic condition, though not enough so to bother trying to play football in college. The size of his belly and pretty girls make him uncomfortable. His dark complexion, large lips, and dark eyes have allowed him to be mistaken for a member of numerous minority populations, though he is of English and German descent.

Casey’s mom once said that the two boys seemed to have two bodies and one brain. The brain decided to attend the local university, and both of them were obliged to join in. Casey’s grades in high school put him in the upper two-thirds of his class, while Brian finished in the top five overall. Both of them seemed to manage a number of after-school-learning-opportunities with their teachers, especially when they scheduled classes together.

The morning neared and the two young men resembled cherubs as they slept together. Well, they were kind of cherub-like, except for Brian’s obnoxiously loud snoring and Casey’s excessive drooling. Actually, they both smelled bad, too, and Brian forgot to brush his teeth. (Casey always remembered to brush his teeth, wash his face, and moisturize before bed.) Anyway, they had their eyes closed and weren’t hurting anyone at the moment, which is kind of angelic for a teenager.

Casey was the first to sense the birds outside the window and Brian’s foot resting on his shin. Luckily, three beers, no matter how illegal, do not provide lasting effects for adult-sized individuals.

“Hey doofus, do you remember what you said to Julia last night?” Casey’s dry voice asked.

“I didn’t tell her I loved her or anything ridiculous like that, did I?” Brian often forgot what he had said from one moment to the next, an interesting attribute for someone with such abilities in memorization that allowed him to have a very inflated GPA.

Casey often referred to this phenomenon of forgetfulness when railing against Brian for it. “I can’t believe you don’t remember what you say to people on the phone, but you can remember the quadriplegic formula in math.”

“Hey, maybe I don’t remember what I said to her, but I remember what counts.”

“Like what she said to you?”

Brian started to get nervous. “What was it exactly I said to Julia?”

“You’re so going to wish you’d told her you loved her.” Casey made no indication he would say any more on the subject. Brian started to fidget a bit. He was sure he had in fact said something quite astonishing to Julia, but the more he tried to remember, the more his anxiety caused him to forget.