Wednesday, April 10, 2013

My Unbelievable trip down Memory Lane

As an orphan, I don't have as many old family photos to share as Michael does. Both my parents were killed in the line of duty as agents of some shadowy organization (I know very little about it other than the fact that every year on my birthday, I would receive a cake from a delivery-person who would later explode) and my formative years were spent at St. Edmund the Martyr's School For Boys Who Will Grow Up To Be Crime Fighting Vigalantes. It was a relatively stark existence, with not a lot of priority placed on the warm and fuzzy. Still, I managed to retain a few things...

There's dear ol' dad as I remember him. "Buy American!", he'd say.

Oh, how mother enjoyed walking in the woods behind our house!

Nothing like taking the boat out to the lake for a weekend of relaxing family fun!

It was Thomas Wolfe who said, "You can't go home again".
I don't know if he was talking about my
house specifically, but either way, he was correct.
Other than that, I only have one childhood photo of Yours Truly...
"Honk, honk!"
This was my very first case, that time I went deep under cover and in disguise as Cincinnati Reds all-star Pete Rose to rescue the kidnapped infant child of Harpo Marx.
Sorry I don't have more to share. I'm sure Jeff will more than make up for that though.


  1. Damn it. I was really looking forward to gawking at your photos of frolicking on the beach in your hirsute, tanned, Greek god glory.

  2. I have never frolicked, on the beach, hirsute or otherwise. Sorry.

  3. I have photographic evidence that says otherwise.

  4. I feel like Clark needs a hug. Lots of hugs. And I should give them to him. Naked. LOL