Memoirs, a Narrative. Part One.

A multi-part story. The number depends on how many people I piss off. And how badly I piss them off!

I have a story to tell. Perhaps it isn’t a good one and perhaps it isn’t very kind to me, but it is a story.

Just a quick biographical background: I was born in Renton, Washington on 11-11-1956. As was the demographic norm of the era, I had a mother (born female and identified as female for her entire live) and a father (born male and identified as male for his entire life). To the best of my knowledge, they were both strictly heterosexual. The only thing semi-unique about my birth was that I had four older sisters. Fuck, just my luck!

Enough with the boring shit.

My athletic prowess was never something to boast and brag about. And trust me; it has gone downhill since adulthood. (I first typed “adultery”. Wow, is that another post. Unless the FCC bans me.)

In high school I was on the cross country and the swim teams. I don’t remember for sure, but I think I ran cross county all three years of high school (yes, I am the relic of the 3 year high school), but I didn’t swim my senior year.  Damn, I was so near drowning most of the time, just call is self-survival!

Trust me; there are none of my trophies in the hallowed halls of Tyee High School.  Low man on the totem pole would be an apt description.

Hmm… could it be that I was gay? Sounds pretty queer to me!

My dad was a runner. He set the Idaho state record for the mile while a student at Wendell High in the late 1930’s. It was a record that lasted for decades in the state. There might be one of his trophies in the hallowed halls of Wendell High School. Go Trojans!