I had a brush with infamy last winter.
As a guest columnist for The Daily, I wrote a somewhat satirical piece about homelessness in Evanston. I thought it obvious I had my tongue planted firmly in cheek, but the piece still inspired an argument or two.
Going to a Catholic school as a kid ingrained two things into me. One was a lifelong hatred of dark blue pants. The second was a general sense of guilt that has stuck with me even though I’m far removed from my days as a frightened altar boy. If you think that this is a good place for a priest joke, insert your own. I’m too lazy.
