“We’re meeting for dinner after class tomorrow at Tarahumara’s. Do you know where that is?” The look on my face informed them I did not. “It’s down by Benvenuti’s,” one of them offered. Again, they are met by my glassy-eyed stare. “Is that over by the Mazzio’s with the Spy Hunter machine?” They return a confused look. “What’s a spy hunter?” They act as if I’ve never been to Norman, Oklahoma, but the truth is I’ve been there many, many times. One of my best friends, Justin, grew up in Norman. The two of us met in the mid-80s, and… (read more)