The first poet laureate of the Silicon Valley meditates on the meaning and mystery of memory, looking back on his childhood as the son of a chauffeur in New York and his college days in Eastern Kentucky. This is an insightful and often funny memoir from a member of the last generation to grow up without TV or coed dormitories.

A sample from "A Hero's Life":
"He was the worst teacher ever to be given a festschrift. He was so bad, he was a blessing, for the shyest, timidest, dullest, stupidest of us could feel superior, could know that when he said white, blue surely was in the running. His wife Cora, however, was very sharp. She had a Ph.D., taught English at the girls' school across town, and looked like the heavy in Snow White and the Seven Dwarves in the middle of her big scene. She would come into his class, sit in the corner cackling and muttering under her breath, knitting like Madame DuFarge on some object that never got any bigger. When Lark would say something stupid, Cora would look up, snort, and say matter of factly, 'Freddy, you fool'"