Fragments From the Memory Log, Entry Twelve
I'm sick. That's right. I have some sort of viral flu-like thing attacking my body. So just put out of your mind the idea I'm ... (more...)
Category: Memory Log
Fragments From the Memory Log, Entry Eleven
Because of the awareness-inducing focus a task like writing incurs, I now can't help but pay attention to what are normally unsolicitous sounds from beyond ... (more...)
Fragments From the Memory Log, Entry Ten
I don't think the adults around me comprehended that as a child among other children in the comparatively vast and irregular geometry of our neighborhood, ... (more...)
Fragments From the Memory Log, Entry Nine
From lessons to teachers, from lunch to recess, my first six years spent in elementary school was a vast and confusing channel of mixed transmissions ... (more...)
Fragments From the Memory Log, Entry Eight
God. I've had some trouble with him... her... over the years. As a kid, I wouldn't say our relationship was especially strained, but we had ... (more...)
Fragments From the Memory Log, Entry Seven
What are the key ingredients for making a bad myth? I ask because I came into contact with many as a child. Some must have ... (more...)
Fragments From the Memory Log, Entry Six
Animals, or as I mean them here, pets, represent an occasional occurrence in my youth. For many American families they provide a regular staple to ... (more...)
Fragments From the Memory Log, Entry Five
There are key moments from my youth that stick out like lightning bugs in the summer darkness of an open field. Some are turning points ... (more...)
Fragments From the Memory Log, Entry Four
Children pick up a knowledge or understanding of things in unusual and disjointed ways. I'm talking of how they interpret the underpinnings of the world ... (more...)
Fragments From the Memory Log, Entry Three
When I was a kid, I was indestructible. Now that's not to say I'm some sort of titanium-skinned super being from another galaxy, or was blessed ... (more...)
Fragments From the Memory Log, Entry Two
Remember G.I. Joe? Let me rephrase that: remember the real G.I. Joe. Not the Joe action figure who stands a mere 3 & 3/4 inch ... (more...)
Fragments From the Memory Log, Entry One
Back when I was no more than a mite of a person, still rather preformed in body and mind, way back when a computer had ... (more...)