8/1 Played pool with my son in that gigantic lobby of the apartment complex. I have vivid memories of coming near a pool table for the first time, of picking up a ball randomly and being shooed away by the adults, whispering that I was not allowed to do that. First time holding a cue and trying to come up with a finger position, failing ridiculously at the first few attempts at a shot. Today, even though I have a little more practice holding a cue, still about half of my shots go awry. This is what I hope will plant some memory in my son. Some rite of passage, some validation, some feeling of being able to be someone.