11.9.1986
December 10, 2006
Note: My short-lived attendance at Ricks College in the small town of Rexburg, Idaho twenty years ago was a defining stage of my life. Mostly for unpleasant reasons. Taking an extremely impulsive anarchist skate punk from California and putting them in the Rexburg of 1986, what can you expect? My being an 18-year-old with the maturity of a 9-year-old didn’t help, either. But it was in Rexburg that I fell in love with photography and abandoned my academic career to follow my passion.
These entries are written from the journals I kept when I was 18. Of course, at 38 today, I do not advocate any of the illegal activity discussed here. -Trent
Monday, November 9, 1986
This morning Larry started telling us how we had to flee to Canada to escape getting into trouble for the check the guys forged. The whole day felt overbearing, like the law was about to come down on us and lock us up forever. Through it all, though, I knew there was no way I was going to run away to Canada. (38: Yeah, you drove some guys to the grocery store where they forged a check for, what, $13 and you’re going to run up to Canada? What a joke.)
Instead of Canada, we went to Idaho Falls and spent all our money like it was our last day of freedom. We played video games in the mall arcade for hours.
We came back and went to Family Home Evening, as if it would bring us good karma. That was uneventful, but we did find out that no charges were being pressed for the check forgery.
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