Dad was proud. Mom was motivated.
In one of the earliest inceptions (or latter predecessors) of Hooked on Phonics, I was taught how to read, at far too early an age.
They then gave me IQ tests, which weighed me in at 143 (I have yet to play this number in the lottery).
Impressive, perhaps (thank you) - but I attribute it to having been sat down in fronta
Star Trek and Bugs Bunny at an impressionable age. Actually, much may be attributed to either.
Skipped Kindergarten - never learned to finger-paint or nap properly (the rest may be attributed to either of those).
I was given a little book on stars, which I can safely say was one of the few books I actually read
- though I'm pretty sure I never read the entire thing.
My terrible task was then to astound tall people with obscure facts and statistics, like:
there are 9 planets which orbit the Sun, of which Earth is the third, at a rough distance of 93 million miles.
No, there weren't any other children for me to hang out with.
The prevailing response to things like that was that I should run along and play
- a situation which still occurs to this day.
Attended Grosse Pointe Academy for first grade, where I learned to read again - but this time, in a blue blazer.
Not an entirely different experience, but it turned out to be one we could not afford, a second year.
After looking into a few other Sesame Street scenarios we could also not afford,
it was decided that public school would build much needed character.
I haven't seen a real life rich person up close ever since.
Instead, we divested our upper middle class accumulate, and got a boat
- the Scrambler, an eight meter Florida speedboat, which was happiest going 75 mph.
Mom was not happy being airborne over water, however, so we traded up to the Floating Suite - a nice, quiet cabin cruiser
- but ultimately stopped taking her out on weekends, because gas was approaching a dollar a gallon.
Dad had been in the Navy, so it was important to him that I develop sea-legs, which I did.
It was also important to him that I not throw the anchor overboard unless there is a line attached to it;
or, if there is a line attached, it should not be kinked so as to chip a waterline smile in the gelcoat
- both of these, I also did; but we were too close to the shore for throwing me overboard to have any real, lasting effect.
Never learned to tie a knot, but I'm a fairly recreational swimmer.
The condos we lived in had an olympic size pool with two diving boards.
Also, the clubhouse had a pool table - and the local strip mall had a 31 Flavors.
All that, plus a paper route, and I appeared to be destined for great things.