As a kid, when my parents tried transferring me from a public elementary school to a Catholic separate school, I embarked on a course of resistance by playing hooky for the entire first week of the fall semester. Those days were spent hiding in a series of giant concrete pipes that had been dropped into a sandlot at Christie Pits as both playground apparatus and cheap urban sculpture. Contentedly, I passed the hours reading comic books and eating candy, until a truant officer caught up with me.
