Bruce Hall
Bruce Hall is the oldest dormitory at the University of North Texas. Opened in February 1947 as a residence hall, it has persisted in its original function longer than any other dorm, including numerous ones that were built afterwards. It stands out from many of its neighbors, with its pitched
Stories
Most every day, I bumped into Jim and would ask if he was up for lunch. Most every day, he said yes. And most every day, when I asked him what he was in the mood for, he would chirp, “Steve’s BBQ!” At that point, I had lived in
Micha
My sister Micha lives in Round Rock, an Austin suburb known for downtown shootouts, ballpark shutouts, and corporate output. But the name “Round Rock” had to come from somewhere, and one day I wondered out loud about its origins. Micha said simply that the name came from a round rock,
Stories
One Thursday evening, I brought my then-love interest Amy home to dine with my parents in Southlake. Because they were early-rising farm folk, my mom and dad both went to bed soon after dinner, leaving Amy and I to our own devices. The two of us retreated to the den
School
Nearly every summer in college, I worked on a crew of conference assistants. Our job was to prepare the dorms for the presence of different summer camps, ranging from prepubescent cheerleaders to over-singing barber shop quartets. It involved a lot of cleaning, moving of supplies, and sweat in between. Mostly,
Bruce Hall
Each incarnation of “Ma Bruce” was there to enforce the strict and sometimes unfair morals which society demanded of women. These included obedience, respect for authority, and above all, no hanky-panky with men anywhere in the building. Violations guaranteed a trip to the dreaded Dean of Women, who legend says
Stories
Years ago, I had gone off to school at a college within half-an-hour of my hometown. This allowed me to visit my parents often enough to use their washer and dryer each week. Sometimes my mother would help me with my laundry, which then allowed her to sneak me care
Micha
In the summer of 1989, my parents moved across the Metroplex, from tony North Dallas to the rural community of Southlake. The timing was particularly hard on me. I was fifteen years old, without a driver’s license, in a new area code — the combination of these three factors made
Jenn
In college, I was sure I had met the girl I was going to marry. Then we broke up, and my life went into a tailspin. Being the heart-on-the-sleeve romantic that I am, I honestly thought that I had missed the most glorious of kismet and would never be again
Stories
A couple of years into college, I got a big itch that I just couldn’t scratch — I desperately wanted to travel and see the world. It seemed that everyone around me was spreading their wings. My friends Terrell and “Grandma” had just completed a roadtrip that took them throughout
Stories
On November 7, 2000, Election Day, I was at work when my cell phone rang. It was my father calling to see if I had plans to attend George W. Bush’s big election party, which was being held that evening on the grounds of the Texas State Capitol. At
The other day, my coworkers and I stumbled upon an online typing test that will rate how many words and characters per minute you can type. Taking it just now, I clocked in at about 108 words per minute. It reminded me of just how far my typing skills have
Bruce Hall
On a scorching day in August 1992, I was sitting with my mother on a stout concrete wall outside of Bruce Hall, waiting for the building to open and move into my home away from home for the first time. I wasn’t alone outside, as quite a number of
Micha
In my Austin bachelor days, I wasted much of my time and brain capacity on video games. For awhile, I was into strategy games, and this led to a brief infatuation with The Sims. For me, it was more than just a game. It was a novel way for me
Stories
Over the weekend, I attended a birthday party for Arro, my friend Reece’s oldest son. Although the celebration had a Harry Potter theme and every child was given a magic wand and glasses, the most popular party favor by far proved to be the paper horns given to everyone.
When I was younger, my family visited southern California for my uncle’s wedding. Nicely enough, the weekend of his nuptials coincided with that year’s Tournament of Roses. So I was fortunate enough to be in town for one of the great American experiences: the Rose Bowl. Not only