I had a huge crush on my cousin, Mark, from the time I was about 7 or 8 until I was at least 18. Ten

years is a long time to carry a torch. The coolest thing he ever gave me was a cherry red Frisbee which he had painted my name on, Peter Maxx-style with puffy powder blue letters that looked psychedelic and about to pop from happiness. All my memories of Mark are black and white and there is polka music playing in the background and the smell of beer and cigar smoke and the the clink-clank of our great uncles heaving horseshoes around the back yard. But that Frisbee--the intense colors live in my memory like electrified neon and Kool-Aid all mixed together.