The way I remember it, being a kid in 1970 was a lot easier than it is today. On any given summer Saturday I'd devour a couple bowls of Captain Crunch, watch my favorite cartoons, jump on my Stingray bike and go explore the world. I was reminded recently how I'd return home, usually just before dark, to my mom asking me the same old question: "Those are new jeans. How in the world did you get holes in them already?" She couldn't stay upset with me very long. I was a boy doing boy stuff. More importantly, I was her boy.
Eleven
Monday, March 25, 2013
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
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