When I was four and five years of age, I lived with my folks, an older sister and two baby brothers in an old house. I remember that it was a big house, but when you are that age everything is big. I discovered years later that the entire area used to be a farm in the middle of what would one day become a field of solid concrete;  a cloverleaf joining two of the main highways in the metro area. The farm had been overrun by developers but I was actually residing in what had been the main farm house.

There was a "shed" thirty yards or so from the house. I was not sure what a shed was at the time, I just knew it was one place you were not supposed to enter. I remember it was dark in there, smelled funny and it had a dirt floor and I really had no desire to breach its threshold. 

I had a mother who must have been young and inexperienced in the matters of parenting. I of course, learned this for a fact by the time I was sure that my woody contained more magic than inconvenience, but that is another story. I recall wandering all over the fields that surrounded the house.  I would actually take naps outside in the clover. A hundred yards away from my home, hidden by brush I imagine, there was an orchard. There were rows and rows of pear trees. At the time of course, I did not know what a pear actually was.  I had one or two bites of a pear and decided that I did not like pears.

One day my father came home with a big bag of goodies. It was filled with pears. I remember saying:

Why would you buy pears Daddy when there are pears all over the place?

Oh there are not. Why would you say such a thing Dickie?

Yes there are. They grow on trees and those trees are all over the place. Back there, I said pointing out the window.

Why are you continuing to lie like that Dickie? You go to your room and think about....

Now just a minute Gloria, Dad broke in, we shall go for a walk.

Can I come too?

No Dickie you stay right here.

Of course the dynamic duo discovered the pear orchard and that was that.

I would find birds, fallen from their nests, and I was so impressed I wanted to show mommy my find. She would shriek and tell me to go back outside. She wanted no part of my gifts.

A few blocks away, (and this was the first time I came upon the concept of 'blocks' and discovered their mystery) there was the beginning of a development that would become Edina, Minnesota. Without a chaperone I would wander over to those 'blocks' and that is where I met my first girl friend. Her name was 'Sissy'.

And she was a year older than me.

I spent a lot of time over at Sissy's house. Her father was kind of grumpy and did not say much.

She took me to her kindergarten class one time. I found it illuminating.

She also took me behind some building one day.

Take off your pants, she said with determination.

I usually did what she said anyway, I just found it curious. It turned out in this instance she was curious.

I'll show you mine if you show you yours, Sissy instructed.

She was fascinated with 'mine'. I remember her touching it and staring at it with wonder.

I was more shocked. I mean, there was nothing there.  She was missing something.  That ended any curiosity I had at the time.

I recall little of those days, except that I did not understand cause and effect very well. Shortly after my encounter with 'Sissy' I found myself in my very own kindergarten class.

I remember that I loved my teacher. She was beautiful. The most beautiful woman I had ever seen. One day I was playing blocks with some stupid kid and he was interfering with some structure I had been attempting to construct and I found myself, magically lifted in the air.  I ended up in a corner.

To this day I really do not know how I ended up in the corner.

I was five or six years of age and sent to the farm. Auntie Marie lived on the farm with Uncle Jimmy and their ten or eleven children. My father decided that his oldest and therefore favorite son must have a taste of the farm life.

I was to stay a week. I just remember all the activity. EVERYBODY WAS DOING SOMETHING!!!

One morning a cousin brought in a huge pail full of this foamy white stuff. Auntie told me it was milk, but it sure did not look like milk.  She took the pail and added a bunch of chocolate syrup.

We had oatmeal and chocolate milk and toast.  They sure ate a lot for breakfast.

Outside everything smelled like poop. There was poop all over the place from horses and pigs and cows.

My cousin Joe was cool.  He rode a donkey.  At first I was not impressed with donkeys because the Lone Ranger and Tonto rode horses. Donkeys were a step down from horses. I was sure about that. But Joe actually galloped on his donkey. That was cool.

About a year later, in kiddie years anyway, I found myself at a funeral. My cousin Joe had died in a car accident. I recall looking at his painted body in the coffin. I was devastated.

He had been attempting to get into the back seat. He almost made it and would be alive today if he had, said my father.

My father liked to drink and he would say the same thing over and over.  When he was not repeating that line, my mother would.

Then my Aunt Barbara would tell me:

Your cousin Joe was trying to get into the back seat just before the collision. He almost made it they tell me!!

I was beginning to grasp the concept of cause and effect.  It hit me hard at the time.

Sometime later, I awoke to discover that it was a special day. It was my sixth birthday. A big day indeed.

I got this bike. But it was so big. It was a Schwinn or some such. I was impressed.

I got a special cake with candles.  This really rocks, I thought.

Then Daddy called out that it was time to go.  Ok then. We are going to go.

We all filed out to the car. Then Daddy said:

Dickie it's your birthday, and you get to sit in the front seat.