No discussion about the boys would get too far before Kevin Butcher crashed somewhere into the conversation. He was likeable but you wanted to wring his neck; he taunts you then he brings you an expresso just because he's having one. He looks a little like the dreamer on Outsourced thanks to his Indian mom. Kev was just one of the neighborhood guys until that Christmas when he got an English bike. We all were riding mostly hand-me-downs, except for Bill Maydall who had a Schwinn. But Kevin's Raleigh was different than our basic understanding of bikes. It had skinny tires and handbrakes and craziest of all - gears. You could petal up Lewiston Street sitting down! Kev was pretty cool about letting all of us take a ride on it which became his calling card. His dad worked for the Performing Arts Center in the business office which allowed the Butchers to travel outside the States and Kevin always came back with stories filled with great details of places none of us ever heard of. One time he went to Bucharest and had his picture taken under the Arcul de Triumf holding his hands to his chest like he was cupping boobs. The OMG thing about Kevin is when he gets pissed he jumps around like a gerbil in a hot fry pan. He really liked team sports but if he ever got a bad call, you had to wrap your arms around him to restrain him. And he was not particularly good with his fists either for a tantrum guy. Our softball team, the Adams (long story, Adams=Atoms), had to beg the Commish (Hector DelGado) to reinstate us after an ump got so pissed at Kevin who was already thrown out of the game THEN banned to the parking lot where he yelled insults at this fat fuck umpire with Cheetos in his teeth, at the top of his lungs from the top of his car and got the whole team expelled from the league. Kev said "it was the principle" we all knew better. That leaves Charlie, the messiah of our quirky quartet, but save it for later when time permits.