brian shivers

I love Halloween. Yeah, I said it. I love Halloween. I came to this love naturally. My father was one of the biggest fans of this day. He was a master story teller who could hold even the biggest skeptic spellbound by his haunted tales. He could put together an incredibly frightening haunted trail and spine tingling spook house. He could also put the scare into trick-or-treating with realistic ghoulish makeup on his children's faces. As much as he loved all of the tricks and treats, he really saw this day as an opportunity to have fun, enjoy family, celebrate friendship, and welcome neighbors. That is really why he loved Halloween. Now, I may not share my dad's flare for a good ghost story, and I am really not all that fond of things that go bump in the night. However, I do share dad's love for what Halloween can mean for community. This is one day when I have the opportunity to greet my neighbors and new comers alike at my door, if even for a few moments. Halloween pro

I have a flat spot on the bridge of my nose. It makes it difficult to find glasses that fit. And my deviated septum makes it hard to breathe out of my left nostril and might make me snore (you would have to ask Jennifer). This is all the result of multiple nasal fractures. Each one has a story. Each one is a part of me. Wounds are funny that way.  When I was thirteen, I was at my friend's house playing basketball with him, his brother, and some of the neighborhood guys. Simmie and I were on the same team, and his brother, Mark, was on the other. The game ended rather abruptly when I gave Mark a terrible shot fake. As a result my face, or I should say, my nose took the brunt of his attempt to block the shot that never left my hand. So, I live with this constant reminder of that sunny summer afternoon. It is a part of me. Wounds are funny that way. Simmie was one of my best childhood friends. He was the first person that made me feel welcome on the playground of my new school on