A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Portlander

I have a new Editor's Note up over at DownEast.com about my high school days. Like the Hibernian author to whom I allude in the headline, I was educated by Jesuits. I attended Cheverus High School in Portland, Maine, in an era when it was still an all-boys institution. The testosterone levels were off the charts back then, and it's no wonder Cheverus dominated Maine athletics for decades. The school has changed (almost entirely for the better), as has Portland itself. A couple of years ago, I did a class visit at Cheverus and got a tour from the president of the new facilities. I was impressed but also nostalgic for the school that formed my personality (for better and worse). I feel the same about Portland. The city is so much more dynamic than the one I remember from my teens and twenties—every time I visit, I get the itch to move back there. And yet part of me always feels a little wistful walking the streets of the Old Port and thinking of bars no longer there, the friends who have moved away. I guess that's the nature of getting older: you become haunted by your past self.