“What is human life? The first third a good time; the rest remembering about it.” -Mark Twain

 
Over these past few months I have been sharing thoughts and memories about my life.  I’m writing to get my creative juices going.  What I’m trying to do is publish a more positive outlook on life for others to enjoy.  (That’s a lie, I’m writing for my own selfish reasons.  I want the world to acknowledge my existence.)

Last week/weekend, my mother was in town to visit and look after my children while my wife and I went to Emerald City Comicon.  When we returned, we were sitting down for dinner and my kids began asking questions about my childhood.  Gramma shared stories of my terrible twos and troublesome threes.  My children laughed at the stories of my misadventures. 

I shared a story of the first Godzilla film I saw (Godzilla vs Mothra), detailing where I was, when it was, and what the weather was like outside.  I even remember that after the movie, another Godzilla film was starting, followed by reruns of the old Spiderman cartoon (a giant plant creature was wreaking havoc on the city). During this time, my mother was busy ironing and then making lunch.  It was 1978, and I wasn’t even three years old yet.

I also shared a couple of other stories from those days, and my wife was rather surprised. She questioned how I remember things that happened when I was two years old. Honestly, it never occurred to me that people would lose memories or that regular events never stuck with them from a young age.

Most people share stories of greatness from their high school days.  Or briefly remember playing Nintendo for the first time.  Looking back on my life, I’ve done quite a bit, and enjoyed most of it.  

If Mark Twain is correct, then the first third of my life isn’t over.  I’m still having a good time and I haven’t stopped living just to remember what I’d done.  If my math is correct, I’ll be living well into my mid 100’s at this rate.