The Mark Childress page                     
Essays

VEGA$ON US   So there I was on stage, dirty-dancing with Toni Braxton. At her invitation I gave her a little spank. “Now it’s my turn,” she said, and beckoned me to stick out my behind. I did. She slapped it. The audience roared. And that’s the moment I decided to try to stop hating Las Vegas. . .

ALABAMA:  Something to Brag About
I was born into a house divided, meaning Daddy’s people cheered for Auburn football and Mama’s people were for Alabama.  Both families were poor, like most people in Alabama then, and many today.  Only a few had attended either university, but in Alabama, cheering for the Tide has never had much to do with whether you ever had any hope of going to college.   Read the essay on Wall Street Journal's site (a new window will open)   
   COSTA RICA, PURA VIDA  The first time I landed in Costa Rica, I stepped off the plane and stood around in the musty airport at San Jose, feeling doubtful, waiting for the customs guy to stamp my passport.  Everywhere were signs welcoming me to “El Jardin de Paz,” and indeed it was all that Garden-of-Peace propaganda and Costa Rica’s reputation as “The Switzerland of Central America” that made me want to see the place for myself. . . .
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