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Sometimes I think I have lived my life backwards. Spring break is a perfect example. We’d never heard of “such a thing” in 1962. We thought it was mandatory to go to school every weekday from January 3rd until school ended in late May. If it didn’t snow a foot or two, or the boiler blew up, we were in the classroom studying Chaucer or heating some chemical compound with a Bunsen burner or conjugating verbs or following some guy named Byrd to the North Pole...
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