The First Few Years

   It all started a long time ago in a galaxy, er town, far away. It was the late 1960's. My mom had two brothers in Vietnam-one Army, one Air Force; my father also had two brothers over there-one Marines, one Navy. My dad didn't go - I was always told that I was his excuse out. No matter. Parents met while he was bagging groceries at the local supermarket somewhere in the Channelview, Texas area. I was born in Pasadena, Texas. This:

isn't the actual hospital-this is the one that was built AFTER the one I was born in was torn down(and then this one was also abandoned). So I was probably born about where that light pole is...who knows.
   For my first three years, we lived in different spots in Pasadena...I think...I don't actually remember this part. Sometimes near my paternal grandparents, different apartments. One of my earliest memories is being at my maternal grandparents house, I was just over three years old, and one of them answered the telephone and asked if I would be happy with a new baby sister. I probably was not.
   I know we settled into some apartments in North Shore around the time she was born. And lived there until I was about 10, when we moved into the apartment complex next door.

   My dad worked at Armco Steel near the Houston Ship Channel. We did pretty good though I suppose my parents were most likely just frugal in our home life(I recall lots of tuna casserole!). We went back and forth to Southern California nearly every summer. We flew to Hawaii when I was 7. I do remember not being allowed to visit the Pearl Harbor Memorial because my sister was too young(not a pleasant memory). And I recall taking my first photo with my parents 110 instamatic camera-it was of Koi fish at some arboretum we visited. From that moment, I wanted to be a photographer.
   The next summer, in 1975, we went to Walt Disney World in Florida.

   This is Space Mountain from that trip. We also stopped by Cape Kennedy. I remember seeing the Apollo rocket for the Russian docking test mission on the launch pad. Disney I don't remember, NASA I certainly do.

   My mom's dad passed away in September of 1974. I think I am a lot like him. He had a room in their house that was his "man cave"-wall to wall maps of the world and ham radios. I loved it and spent as much time in that room as I could. I am certain that I inherited my love of travel and maps and just wandering from him. When my mom was younger, and they lived in California, they would wander the desert on the weekends-but that will be a whole other blog post.

   I played lots of sports. Honestly I know my dad wanted a boy and got me, so I was into sports from day one; in fact, my first Christmas present was a football. I sometimes feel like I grew up in the Astrodome.

   I played baseball when I could, switched to softball when sort of "forced"(early 70s, I won't complain too much). I asked in high school if I could try out for football, was told to play soccer. I did play 3 years of soccer at the YMCA, and hated it. Astros, Oilers, Aeros, Rockets-we saw them all. I am still rather obsessed with some sports-and over the MOON about the Astros finally winning a World Series last year!!

   Those are the basics of childhood. I will probably expound more on different details in the future. Spilling all this is rather cathartic. I hope someone will enjoy reading. If not, that's okay too.