On Sunday, I texted last week's column to my old amigo, Doc Flannery, a fine Irishman, a University of Minnesota Medical School graduate and a fine product of Christ the King Catholic Grade School in south Minneapolis where the nuns, none of them pushovers, gave you a good slap when you weren't telling the truth or were caught cheating on a test.

I can attest to the latter.

Or, in one particular case, Tommy Peterson had brought dirty pictures to school and was passing them around to his pals, one of whom was me.

Delightful photos of a naked couple and here we were in the sixth grade and lea...