Thursday, September 27, 2012

The Baby Head, while being an international icon, means a great deal to me. In fact, I'll go as far as to say that it's played a major role in my life, at least by association.
My folks were in there forties when my unplanned self barged in. An oops baby sure, and I'm incredibly okay with that because I'd obviously rather be here than not. That put the proud parents in their 50s while I was in junior high during the 60s. So watching Mad Men brings back memories of when Mom and Dad had their post-5 o'clock cocktails or weekend get-togethers on somebody's back porch while they parked me in front of what ever TV set they could find. As I owe much to the British for introducing me to Diana Rigg in a black, one-piece leather catsuit while crime fighting on The Avengers. That's obviously an image that stuck with me.

The 60s were just a great time to grow up in a small town. My brothers were in college then, during the war protests and the Kennedy's. And they brought home and inspired me with some of the greatest music of all time. So I figure I owe a lot to Gerber Baby Food and Fremont, where my Father hung his hat for many many years, for giving me the town and the life I rather like. And to my folks, who didn't do much in the way of protection.

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