
When even a phonebook draws call for censorship
I have been missing my lifelong friend and childhood hero, Toby Dawn McIntyre, so I was excited to see him standing on the front porch. I barely opened the door, however, when he pushed past me. “Where you hiding them, Tommy Boy?” he demanded as he began rifling through random cabinets, drawers, and closets. I played it cool while I mentally checked off all the items I had hidden from him for his own good over the years (mostly harmonicas, roller blades, and berets). “The phonebooks!” he screamed. “Phonebooks!”








