I’m Chris Davis. I’ve been Chris Davis for as long as I can remember. Maybe even longer. Although I’m the only Chris Davis in my family, circle of friends and neighborhood, I realize there are others in the world that bear my name as well.

Amerika’s the name. Syd Amerika. Remember it. Scratch it into your arm with a linoleum knife. Scribble it on a cocktail napkin with a pencil stub that’s longer than your boyfriend’s shvantz. I don’t care.