Naked Backpack Boy
Carlos Kotkin recounts a friend’s date in which fashion was not a priority, while a backpack accessory apparently was.
Carlos Kotkin recounts a friend’s date in which fashion was not a priority, while a backpack accessory apparently was.
Carlos Kotkin remembers a Welsh Terror named Max who once boarded with him. And in his honor, he offers a touching eulogy.
Carlos Kotkin recalls the time he was trapped in the grip of a diabolical tree stump, memorializing all the times his father placed him in peril.
Carlos Kotkin explains a personal quirk and the trouble it’s gotten him into. And he introduces us to “Bob,” who already knows about Carlos’s “thing.”
Carlos Kotkin reminisces about the time he worked for a famous European bohemian and hung out with the rich and famous.
Carlos Kotkin recounts a chance meeting with new friends in an elevator who helped him appreciate life on a higher level.
Carlos Kotkin remembers a not so pleasant swim in the waters of Lake Michigan while the cameras were rolling.
Carlos Kotkin recalls an unexpected confrontation in what was otherwise a quiet, isolated workplace, in this mini-memoir about Dances With Wolves.
Carlos Kotkin remembers exactly how not to hike the tallest mountain in Southern California, with his parents and some bats.
Carlos Kotkin advises all citizens residing in apartment buildings to find out what day is maintenance day, immediately.
Carlos Kotkin remembers what might have been, as inspired by his unconditional ambivalence toward polka and the $2500 accordion his parents never bought him.
Carlos Kotkin brazenly shows how much smarter he is than you, as he recounts a few fond memories while traveling down the path that is his own intellectual memory lane.