It was 1968 and I was 15 when we moved from Nashville, Tennessee to El Paso, Texas. The 2nd day I was there a neighbor girl took me to score some pot at the local burger drive-in. I'd never seen so much pot before and was so dumbfounded I just stood there with it in my hand. Fortunately, the guy that'd accompanied us said, "Put it down your pants."
While I stayed out 'til 2 or 3 in the morning, hanging with new-found friends, my brother, four years younger, got a paper route and bought a Yamaha 100. We were there less than a year when my Mom was transferred to Hawai'i. Instead of going with them, I went north into the wilds of Idaho's Salmon River Wilderness.
Now, decades later, Eric travels the world schmoozing for multi-million-dollar contracts for his military-industrial complex-related corporation based in Austin, Texas. He was part of an eight-man team that, during one of the Bush administrations, met in Brussels to develop the shield that would protect America from ICBMs from Russia and/or China. Our formative years were as different as night and day but we have similar mannerisms, proclivities and are equally anal-retentive, a trait Germans have raised to a penultimate level.
I've been reading Evenings With Horowitz: A Personal Portrait, a biography of Vladimir Horowitz by David Dubal. I laughed aloud as they articulated the distinctiveness of the (alleged) Teutonic mind.
Years ago, back when I had a calendar and TO DO list, I invented the footnote; it's a task, written on an 8 and a half by 11 sheet that's placed on the floor; the path between the kitchen and the bathroom is best.
What can I say? It's genetic.
