My kids know who Moe Paulson is, not that they have met him. He was just that big a part of my young life that stories came out. "Mt. Zion sucks" and "the perfect baseball swing is slightly upward" were the two causes we supported vigorously. We certainly competed against each other to be the best, but it paled to how we fought together to win as a Kiwanis team. I remember we tried to rig a night fishing spot, with a big coleman lantern, on the shore of the gravel pit one night, without success. On that Am. Legion team trip to Minnesota, I recall we fished almost as much as we played baseball. We could not believe our dorms were fishing cabins on a lake. It was great to share "boyhood" with Mark. Maybe we delayed our dating or social development a bit, but we honestly chose watching baseball, playing strat-o-matic, or fishing more at the time. I remember bowling all the time after school at Eldorado Lanes and competing on some old game actually named "rip-off". We separated geographically, and maybe idealogically over the years. But there is no telling my life story without Mark Paulson. I wouldn't trade it, and I'll forever remember my boyhood friend.