|
|
2001-07-22 - 11:06 p.m. So I found out my memory isn’t what I thought it was. After reading my story about my rock, my mother corrected it. Apparently, we never visited that park on the west-side after I was about one year old. When I was a baby, it took me a bit longer then normal to learn how to walk. For the first two years of my life, I rolled everywhere I needed to go. When you think about it, rolling is probably the easiest, energy efficient way to get places. Anyway, so, I rolled everywhere, thus making it obviously impossible for me to be able to climb that rock if I couldn’t even put one foot in front of the other. So, instead of climbing it, I would stand up on my chubby legs (trust me, I was probably one of the chubbiest kid in the city—since my parents didn’t intend on sending me to a private school, I didn’t have to have a “cute figure” to get passed the entrance exam)…well, I would stand up and prop myself up against said rock to “be like the big kids”. I didn’t start climbing a rock until I was about three in Davis Park in Edgewood. I stand corrected…I finally learned how too.
|