When I think of the word "community," connotations of school and work don’t quite count. The sense of a community is a collection of intangibles away from mandatory attendance in advisory and Dave’s deli – little memories and fleeting moments in your favorite places. For anyone who lived near Greenmeadow Circle, Little Red School House (now known as The Children's Workshop) was nothing more than a field, some sand and one house. It’s a small space, not bigger than your average backyard and certainly not that nice. It has swings, a slide, a jungle gym and some green tubes you can crawl through…

Dave is more than just a red and green neon sign. He’s a tangible human being who transformed a fruit stand in Warwick to a Rhode Island staple. He’s a jean-wearing, golf-playing old man who acts no differently than you and I. His name atop lavishly decorated brick buildings carries the weight of locality, honesty and, most importantly, character. In a town where a mini golf course was destroyed to build a Stop & Shop, there’s Dave’s. In a community that allowed batting cages to be plowed for a Starbucks, there’s Dave’s. In a neighborhood that put a Sleepy’s where I learned how to hit a 7 …

Lately my days off from school and work have been consumed with two things: lying on the coach and listening to vintage vinyls. Accordingly, last week saw the purchase of Led Zeppelin IV, perhaps the definition of "good music." However one song in particular ignited a memory that I’ve tried to forget since eighth grade, a memory tied to the milestone of my first kiss. Middle school relationships are a confusing time for everyone involved. As an eighth grader I saw it all, from the couples who just held hands to those who freely made out in the hallways to those who couldn't even look each …

My initial tryout was far from crisp. After all, this wasn’t the sport we played in Providence. No, this was surely different than the blacktops of Branch Avenue. If any of those jump shooters could see me now, I thought, I would surely be shot cold. High socks, baseball pants, curved ball cap and a tucked-in t-shirt was my new uniform. With it came my black Louisville slugger batting gloves and prized Nike in-fielding mitt. Not bad for a basketball player. In an attempt to fall into the fabric of North Kingstown society, I decided to try out for Little League. Quickly did I realize, however…

At 21 years old, life has me a bit confused. I’m too young to know exactly who I am and what I should stand for. I describe myself in a kind of reciprocation of how other people view me. Deep down, however, I do have a small arsenal of characteristics that I know, day after day, will define how I live. First on the list: I like to talk. I’m not exactly a quiet person. Whether it’s at work, among friends, or in the line waiting for my Red Bull at a random gas station, my lips are moving. I’m the guy who talks to the waiter for too long or asks how the lady at the tollbooth is doing, sometimes …

The term “Dead Boys” is far more positive than it sounds, I assure you. Stemming from a hilarious co-worker of mine, I have given this title to three people in my life. The closest meaning I can attach to the phrase would be brother, but somehow Dead Boys has more meaning. As a senior entering his final semester in college, my friends are inevitably soon to be lost. Rather than look to the future where job hunts, relocations and personal relationships might drive us apart, I find myself remembering the night that brought us together. I recall being tired and committing myself to staying home …

Five years later, there's still a torn up, jaded brown, hack of a drumstick in my room. Its wear and tear didn't come from an actual drum set, or even real music for that matter. It came from beating a stolen cowbell with everything I had; it came from cheering the North Kingstown girl's volleyball team to the 2007 state championship. I was never the type to showcase any kind of school spirit. My full work schedule coupled with homework generally left me in the cold when it came to attending school sports. However, a well-timed senior year "crush" on one of the girls volleyball players ended …

I really couldn't speak. My heart was breaking but I had to keep watching. His head was down and so was mine. In six years of watching my brother play baseball, this had never happened. In six years of watching him strike people out, I forgot what it might be like to watch him get shelled. Cody Horner's baseball career began in our backyard. What started as innocent wiffleball homerun derbies grew into fielding drills and hitting sessions: in the end I taught him far too well. Conversely, I succeeded in creating any older brother's nightmare – to teach your younger brother how to play a …

I just wanted the ball once. The field was frozen and much smaller than the friendly confines of my old school. It took me almost two weeks to even get picked for the recess football game and, though I was solemnly pointed at as last pick, I was far from assimilated. Davisville Elementary School recess was no joke. While it certainly had its mindless games such as tag or wall ball, for the most part each class was strictly divided into two factions – athletes and non-athletes. I was a non-athlete. That was new. While I did my "growing up" in North Kingstown, I was born in Providence. I …

Mr. Maynard's seasoned figure rose from his front row seat in an auditorium filled with people clapping and crying in his honor. More than 200 attendees, a delicate mix of parents and students, were all looking at the man who had given the North Kingstown School Department the last 39 years of his life. There wasn't a dry eye in the house and, even though the temperature was pushing 90 degrees, every seat was full. While that night's agenda may have read "Foreign Language Honor Society," everyone attending knew that this evening was for the man sitting up front in jeans and a dress shirt; the…

At the tender age of 16, the job market isn't great. At the tender age of 16 living in North Kingstown, it's pretty much awful. Faced with the prospect of serving coffee, making burgers or bagging groceries, I decided there must be a different avenue to make money. It was this motivation, coupled with a location within walking distance from my house, which led me to the best job in the world: HomeGoods. Yes, I wore an apron for three years. I sold soups and towels. I put away decorative pillows and assembled lamps. I hung rugs and sold people vanities. And I loved every second of it. My first…

There used to be a well-kept secret roaming the open fields of North Kingstown. We weren't sanctioned or professional, but we were talented. We don't have news clippings from our best games, we have scars. We didn't practice and we didn't have plays. We simply put on our Sunday worst, picked teams, and tried to hurt each other. From football to volleyball, we took to any open field in town with our own, home-brewed league. North Kingstown certainly has its share of school sports teams, but what about the teenagers that don't like mandatory practices and staying after classes five days a week …

Every guy has at least one moment in his life that makes him realize he's really not that smart. In my time enrolled in the North Kingstown public school system, I have seen guys remove the screws in a teacher's chair and subsequently watch her tank it during class, drink 25 small cafeteria orange juices in two minutes – only to vomit during geometry class 20 minutes later – and yell at a keyboard during computer class after tripping on acid. For me, that "moment" was consciously chopping a piece of hair from the curly ponytail of a girl that I didn't know. You'd think that this was some sort…