Michael Schwartz

Started playing "frisbee football" at Woodbury, still playing pick-up Ultimate a couple of times a week.

Greg Bass's "Assassination" game had us quietly bumping each other off with suction cup dart guns for several days. Thumper Percy, my oldest friend, betrayed me to Kenny Walker in a choir practice room. (Betrayal among tenors being essential seasoning of the game, there were no hard feelings.) I cherish Kenny's look of disbelief when I somehow leapt high enough that his shot from the hip passed harmlessly between my legs. Saved by tight shorts, I guess. I miss Thumper. I miss Greg.