I don’t remember much of my childhood, so I’ll condense what I can and lay it down as quickly as possible. I didn’t come from a broken home or anything; that usually makes for a more compelling story.  My parents had a decent marriage — as good as any, I guess.  Together they flung two boys and one girl onto this planet like they were flipping blueberry waffles at a truck stop Denny’s.

I grew up without cable television. This singular truth is possibly the only exceptional property of my subliminal self.

Anyway, I grew up (where up is only figurative). I stand five-foot-nothing, not too thin or fat, and you’d never notice me. I have six-minute abs and lumpy potato skin pouring from either side of my belt — when I wear a belt, which is not very often. I did sit-ups, one hundred or so each day, for about three months. I might look pretty good with proper upkeep, only I’m not at all interested.