Climbing out of my crib when I was supposed to be taking a nap.
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Playing by the railroad tracks. The engineers would toss me candy and gum from their windows. The man who put the bars across the streets reported me, and a policeman came and took me home. My father was a policeman, and was not a happy cop.
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Gosh. That makes mine seem so tame. I hope you didn’t get in too much trouble.
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In my seventies and still livin’ on the edge. That’s where the fun is. ‘Twould make my father nervous if he were still around
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Well, as the kids say, you only live once :)
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My earliest memory ever is of standing in front of or near an apartment or some type of building with my mother, my aunt, and my then-little baby brother. I have the impression we were traveling somewhere, and that we’d just gotten out of the car and were stopping somewhere for something. I also remember hearing Elton John’s “Philadelphia Freedom”-the first song I ever remember hearing by him,period. My mother confirmed years later that we had been on a trip somewhere—I forget where she said we were going,though.
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Memories are usually random like that. Certain details get left in, while others are lost.
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