Larry Gorton's feet were in their usual position atop his desk.

"Knock [url=http://www.minnesotawildteamstore.com/adidas-eric-staal-jersey]Eric Staal Jersey[/url] , knock," I said, pushing his door open.

"Mr. Millward!" His voice was low and authoritative. "You, my former star pupil, have been delinquent. Please enter and tell me why you haven't come to visit me in such a long time that this old man can barely match your name to your face."

"You're not an old man--"

"Don't interrupt."

"You were done!"

"My office, my classroom [url=http://www.minnesotawildteamstore.com/]Cheap Minnesota Wild Jersey[/url] , my rules."

I put an index finger to both sides of my head and pulled the trigger.

"Don't do that, Mr. Millward. I haven't got my camera out."

I laughed--easy to do in Larry's world. "It's good to see you, too. But it hasn't been that long, sir."

"Long enough. Long enough, young man, long enough."

"How have you been? Am I keeping you from something?"

"Yes [url=http://www.minnesotawildteamstore.com/adidas-brad-hunt-jersey]Brad Hunt Jersey Youth[/url] , you're keeping me from my work, and for that I'm indebted to you, Mr. Millward."

"You don't have to call me 'Mister' anymore; I'm out of school." I'd said that every single time I'd seen my old professor since graduation from NYU. It never mattered.

"Are you still a Mr. Millward, Luke?"

"Of course, but we're not in class. I'm not a student. We're peers now." I'd said that before, too.

"Your last name [url=http://www.minnesotawildteamstore.com/adidas-victor-rask-jersey]Victor Rask Jersey Youth[/url] , Mr. Millward, defines you." He put his hands on the back of his head, interlocked his fingers, and stretched back in his chair.

"Your last name tells society who you are and where you came from, both in the short term and in the greater sense of where your ancestors' ship originated."

I smiled and repeated each and every one of those familiar words in my mind as he spoke them.

"You're right, as usual [url=http://www.minnesotawildteamstore.com/adidas-jared-spurgeon-jersey]Jared Spurgeon Jersey Youth[/url] , Mr. Gorton." Those words were equally familiar.

"Then we agree to play by proper societal conventions." He put his feet on the floor and dramatically swiveled around to a mini-refrigerator on the floor. "Let's drink." He pulled out two small bottles of water.

"Thanks," I said, as he tossed me one.

He opened his and guzzled half the water. "How's work?"

"Work is great. I'm getting a lot of freelance projects. Even saying no to some now. I just can't take every job anymore."

"Listen, you do that as infrequently as you can. You never know which picture could change--"

"The world. I know."

Larry returned his feet to their home on his desk. Noticing the Oreo-sized holes in the heels of his socks only reminded me how much I had missed the man. Confident, kind, and maybe more comfortable with his place in life than anyone I'd ever known.

I suppose he reminded me a bit of Jordan. Maybe that's why I enjoyed being around them both.

I'd been a fence-sitter on photography until I entered his classroom for the first time. The art had always interested me [url=http://www.minnesotawildteamstore.com/adidas-devan-dubnyk-jersey]Devan Dubnyk Jersey Youth[/url] , but like so many other passions it seemed impractical to turn art into industry and a hobby into a living. Hauling a camera around the world shooting pictures sounded glamorous and rewarding. But I knew few achieved the highest levels of success. Most never won awards or saw their work on newsstands or on Drudge. Sadly, few of the dreamers could make the leap from child shutterbug taking pictures on a disposable 35-millimeter to standing in the back of the White House Rose Garden shooting images of the president and leader of the free world.

I wanted that back then, but my heart and head didn't believe I had the eye.

Thank goodness Larry Gorton thought I did.

"Mr. Millward, what can I do for you? You bring me pictures to gush over?"

"No, sir, not this time. Just visiting. Checking in."

He chugged the rest of his water and shot the bottle hard across his office [url=http://www.minnesotawildteamstore.com/adidas-ryan-hartman-jersey]Ryan Hartman Jersey Youth[/url] , using the wall as a backboard, watching it bounce around the rim and settle in the trash can. His raised both arms above his head. "That's a three."

I grinned and fidgeted with Larry's plastic Rudy Giuliani bobblehead doll.

"What's on your mind, kid?"

"Sir?"

He lowered his eyes and folded his arms across his sweater-vest.

"I don't know, I guess I just wanted to say hi. I'll let you get back to work." I returned Rudy to his spot on Larry's desk and stood.

"Sit."

I obliged.

"You're a horrible poker player, Luke Millward."

You have no idea.

"How's your father?"

It was my turn to chug the rest of my water bottle. I tossed it toward the trash can. Missed. "Figures."

"You heard from him lately?"

"Not exactly." As my academic mentor, Larry had known bits and pieces of my personal history. He knew Mom was dead from prescription drug abuse [url=http://www.minnesotawildteamstore.com/adidas-matt-dumba-jersey]Matt Dumba Jersey Youth[/url] , and he had met Dad once during my freshman year at NYU. But sitting there I couldn't recall how much I'd told him about Dad.

"You hear from him much anymore?"

"It's been a while, sir."

"How long?"

"A couple years, I guess, maybe a little less." I picked up the bobblehead doll again.

"He still drinking?"

I nodded.

Larry did, too. "That's a shame. . . . Tough life you've lived, young man. I bet your mom would be proud."

I nodded once more.

"Then tell me [url=http://www.minnesotawildteamstore.com/adidas-ryan-suter-jersey]Ryan Suter Jersey Youth[/url] , Mr. Millward, what else is going on in your exciting, jet-setting life? Is there a woman?"
 
Wait for it.

"Good. And let's not forget the most important relationship, the one with our lens, you remember?"

I laughed despite myself. "Of course." I mocked his deep voice. "'The eternally intimate relationship between life and lens.' How could I forget?"

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