This summer, I'll be reliving some of these, um, happy summer memories with a group of total strangers. For the past couple of months, I've been spending my Sunday evenings with some of the most creative people in Baltimore, working on an upcoming show in the Stoop Storytelling Series in July: "Baltimoored: Summer in Charm City."
Most of the writers know each other, having worked together in the Baltimore Imrov Group. So I felt a little awkward at first; I think I'm about a decade older than most of them. I know this because they have exceedingly white smiles. They have to hire baby sitters for the meetings. And they appear to eat pizza without mentally calculating the treadmill cost associated with one slice.
I think they might have been a little timid around me at first, too, because I might project a kind of a motherly persona. I suppose it's hard to picture me tearing off on a Schwinn, taking down some unfortunate victim and marking him with the ring-a-levio tattoo of an inch-deep impression of greasy bike chain on the right calf.
