Tom Lanham

Maybe it’s the aroma of stale pizza and potato chips that hangs grease-thick in the air. Perhaps it’s the lighting system, dimmed to an eye-squinting level that approximates late evening, right before dusk drops into night. Or it could be the piles of empty candy wrappers and drink cans that clog the place, giving it the appearance of some toga-partying frat house. But there’...