The Final Time My Father Said, “Come on, Hit Me” (Memoir)

The Final Time My Father Said, “Come on, Hit Me” (Memoir)

During the last year I lived at home with my family in Minnesota, I was a bad boy. A miscreant. A drunken, drug-addled fiend searching for sustenance in the cultural desert of the arctic Midwest. My punk rock insanity was fueled by a series of traumatic events that...