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Waking up from birth and absorbing my surroundings in South Carolina in the early 1960's...... The political assassinations on TV. My relationship with my parents, Daddy was the anchor, but he was hardly ever there, he was swinging shifts in the paper mill where I would end up working too. Mama had OCD on a different level than everybody else has ever had. She would spend hours ironing underwear. Whenever I F-ed up Mama would just say, go to your room and wait till your Daddy comes home. So I would, and just hope Daddy got killed coming home from work so he woudn't come home and tell me he was disappointed in me. These days, that would be Dr. Phil stuff.
The street racing when I was finally old enough to drive. Golly bum what we used to get away with, and sometimes the cops would park beside the street and watch. That was "back then."
Two failed marriages that were both my fault. I had one I couldn't stand and one couldn't stand me. It goes on and on and on. For a while when I was a young kid I kept a diary until it amounted to a big pile of pages. I finally got paranoid and threw it away, that's only something somebody else can read someday.
I don't think my story is in any way different from anybody else's. Because everybody's story is different. The issue with telling it all, the way I remember it, is the fact that not everybody in it is dead. That's a big issue. That would at least piss a few people off, make them mad because they were never the people they thought they were. At least as I remember it.
EDIT: The VW Bug I had, I'd love to know how fast that VW Bug was. It had 150 HP estimated, it would pull the front wheels off of the ground. I'd love to line that Bug up against Red. That Bug might even beat Red out of the hole, for a few hundred feet, but it would be all over after that. But back then, we were running between stoplights and they were not very far apart at all.
The street racing when I was finally old enough to drive. Golly bum what we used to get away with, and sometimes the cops would park beside the street and watch. That was "back then."
Two failed marriages that were both my fault. I had one I couldn't stand and one couldn't stand me. It goes on and on and on. For a while when I was a young kid I kept a diary until it amounted to a big pile of pages. I finally got paranoid and threw it away, that's only something somebody else can read someday.
I don't think my story is in any way different from anybody else's. Because everybody's story is different. The issue with telling it all, the way I remember it, is the fact that not everybody in it is dead. That's a big issue. That would at least piss a few people off, make them mad because they were never the people they thought they were. At least as I remember it.
EDIT: The VW Bug I had, I'd love to know how fast that VW Bug was. It had 150 HP estimated, it would pull the front wheels off of the ground. I'd love to line that Bug up against Red. That Bug might even beat Red out of the hole, for a few hundred feet, but it would be all over after that. But back then, we were running between stoplights and they were not very far apart at all.
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