Interested in Discovering My Time Machine?

The years 1989 through 1991 proved significant. The world saw the end of communism and the beginning of the first Gulf War. Like any other person in his late twenties/early thirties, I led a life of wonder and excitement. Busy creating a new division at work, I found time to earn an MBA, successfully woo the woman of my dreams, begin a successful political campaign and help start a weekly community newspaper.

This is about the latter.

By the time I reached my twenty-eighth birthday, I had decided I liked to write. More significantly, after several popular letters-to-the-editor, I had figured out people had an interest in my writing. I tried submitting a few articles and even started a nice little rejection pile a la Stephen King.

But I was a busy businessman. I didn’t have time to take the usual track of impoverished author. First, I had a real job, so I certainly didn’t come close to the definition of impoverishment. Second, I had a knack for the latest in technology (a thing called “desk-top publishing”). Finally, I had that “never-say-die” demeanor so common among the young (and, if I dare admit today, the not-so-young).

The closing of my community’s local newspaper left a void my computer skills could help quickly fill.

And they did.

And, as a result, I got to co-publish a newsweekly. Of course, with the title of “publisher” comes some perks. Namely, I could write a weekly column and no one could reject it.

And so I did.

Last year, as part of my personal 20^th anniversary project, I re-entered all my columns into the computer. As I went through them, I realized they represent a sort of a time machine. The articles not only chronicled a fascinating time in world and national affairs, they also represent the inner workings of my much younger brain. I shared ideas on philosophy (including sneakers, paper airplanes and white cream donuts), people I knew (Bart Giamatti, Pearl Bailey and Rocky Graziano’s boxing gloves) and people I didn’t know (Pete Rose, Galileo and John Lennon). I wrote of politics (local and national) and popular culture (Star Trek, of course, Pac-Man and Bloom County – remember that?). A lot of this stuff remains interesting, if only because it exposes my own naiveté.

But the columns I’m most proud of consist of free writing. I wrote of the culinary antics of a bachelor, the lure of Manhattan and, my personal favorite, a three part serial entitled “Terror at the School Bus Stop” (inspired by the popular Reader’s Digest feature Drama in Real Life).

Although I sold my share of the paper soon after beginning my term in elective office, I still retain the rights to everything I wrote (and everything my mother wrote). Now, for the first time since they were originally published, I share my personal time machine with you – warts and all.

Each week, coinciding with the same week of their initial publication, I will post a new Carosa Commentary. A blog before blogs, this collection of sometimes humorous, sometimes thought-provoking and now nostalgic essays describe life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness during a critical period of American History. See if you can remember some of the people, places and things I write about. Amaze yourself when you discover how some issues just don’t go away. Best of all, I hope my stories delight you as much as they’ve delighted the readers of some twenty-odd years ago.

Week #1: Only Heels Can Be Heroes (originally published March 23, 1989)