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I hated my Catholic high school.

Wanted to transfer somewhere else, anywhere else.

I was miserable.

It was so sick of getting beaten up by bullies.

I was really tired of flunking Latin. And I didn't believe in

God anymore, but I was a quarter of my way through my sophomore year. And my parents said,

no, I would have to finish that year at Quigley Preparatory Seminary North. And then we could

talk about the possibility that I might be able to transfer to a different school.

So I did.

Would any painfully shy, musical theater obsessed, introverted mama's boy of a closeted gay kid would do?

I bombed my school.

I got my hands on two M80s, probably got them from my older brother Eddie, who generally knew how to get his hands on things.

Kids weren't supposed to get their hands on. M80s are commonly believed to be a quarter of a stick of dynamite. That belief is so common I believed it until I googled M80s this morning. Turns out they're nowhere near a quarter stick of dynamite. But they were originally developed by the U.S. military in the early 20th century to simulate exploding artillery shells during training exercises. The more you know. Anyway, one day during school, when everyone else was in class, the halls were empty, I lit two M80s, threw them in my locker, closed

the door, and walked out of the building. You know those action movies where they show the hero walking away from the exploding building or car, airplane, or planet or whatever in slow motion? It was like that. If I'd had a smartphone then, I would have filmed it and I'd be able to prove it, but I didn't have a smartphone then because nobody did. So you're going to have to take my word for it. I was walking out the door when I heard the explosion, and I didn't flinch or turn around or look back. And while two M80s do not, as it turns out, add up to a half a stick of dynamite, the two of them together did manage to blow the motherfucking door off my fucking locker. I was expelled that day. So it worked. The M80s. They worked. And my plan, it worked. I also didn't

kill anyone and thank God for that. And this was decades ago, so I didn't get arrested and sent to

prison. Man, imagine being sent directly from an all-boys Catholic high school full of violent

bullies and predatory priests to a prison where I'd have to worry about violence and sexual assault.

Anyway, the memory of that day, the day I did what may have been the single coolest thing I've

ever done, coolest in the action movie sense, and the single stupidest thing I've ever done,

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