1998 was a good year: Monica Lewinsky and Bill Clinton and cigars, Michael Jordan’s last game as a Bull, Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa in a steroid-fueled-bulging-bicep quest to shatter the home run record, and Semisonic’s Closing Time all over the radio. Sadly, it was also the year we lost Falco, Phil Hartman, Bob Kane, and Junkyard Dog.
It is also the year that my upcoming book, All Star, takes place. This is partially because of my fondness for the nineties, which also happen to be the time when I was in high school, but also because so much has changed since I was in high school. With cell phones, chat, Facebook, Snapchat, and other things I’ve never even heard of, I really don’t even know what it’s like in high school now. I think it would scare me.