Don't Look Back

In 1994, I stole a column title from H.L. Mencken and ran with it in The Maneater. "The Free Lance" lasted only a semester after I finished living at the paper as editor. As the 50th anniversary of the paper comes around, I thought I would find out what everyone was up to. Including me.

Let's begin with the people I keep in touch with, in the same way the IRS keeps in touch with me once a year. There's Theo. A true Renaissance man, parts of whose life are shrouded in more mystery than the continung appeal of Carrot Top. There's Sybil, whom I met in high school and now commands much of greater Gotham. I haven't caught up with G.H. lately, as she's been busy scouring words unfit to print. Two of the old gang work around the District; one is in my building, and the other across the state line. And I haven't spoken with Scott in quite a spell, but the movie career is coming along.

Sometimes I find it all odd, this mini diaspora. On average, when some of us catch up, we talk about the past way too much, including those missing in action. Maybe some will pop up again.