When I was twenty-three I moved halfway across the country, from Chicago to Tucson. This was done mostly because I could, and partially because my last winter in Illinois involved having to walk across campus to take a final when the wind chill factor was 80 below zero. I knew then that I wanted to have kids at some point in my future, and having my frozen balls fall off and shatter on the pavement wasn’t going to help in that regard. So off I went. Continue reading