No one doubts for a moment that I was a strange kid. But those memories tend to percolate on occassion, and as such, I realized that one of my oddly notable temporal markers came due the other day. [Beep] Picture it: New Years Day 1986. I was sitting in a closet in my aunt’s house in Berkeley, California, with a large pad of art paper and the heady fumes of some colourful permanent markers. I remember this, because on that paper, with those markers, I scratched out the art of a nine-year-old writing “1986 WooHoo!” in a grafitti-esque vomit of colour.
Still have it.