MT. ROYAL DRIVE, 1959 The garage door— atop which my father placed a basketball hoop, its backboard sawed, drilled, painted and hoisted by his own hands, Against which dodgeball epics played out among siblings and neighbors, Past which we dashed in races that began north of the driveway and careened to the back fence, Inside which I smoked my first cigarette, nervous as the homing pigeons who pecked warily in their coop above (another father-built project born of scrap wood and love). The basement— place of hiding & seeking, caroms & checkers on idle summer days, where the parents retreated…