A few more things before 'leaving St. Louis'

Here's my favorite picture of me and my sister. I think we were 3 and 6 respectively - that would make it 1957:


This is a really poignant picture. It's the only one I have of us where we appear to be close... Mom put a lot of expectations on Kathy in the following years. She was supposed to look out for me, entertain me and let me tag along with her and her friends - it was a bit much. I was an expert practitioner of the 'art of the pest' - constantly coming up with new and interesting ways to get under her skin. And she more than got even:

When it comes to messing with people's heads Kathy was without peer. (I'm certain many of her psychiatrists ended up needed therapy themselves after a few months with her.) She could convince almost anyone of almost anything - she fabricated on the fly - never slipped up - never contradicted herself - never hesitated - always grains of truth and always plausible.
She'd tell me stories about 'goblins in the chimney' and 'mom is feeding us pig brains'. One time she even tried to tell me some preposterous story about steak coming from cows - of course I didn't believe her... Seriously! People killing animals, hacking them to pieces and selling the chunks at the grocery store?? Did she really think I was that gullible???
Then my mother confirmed it and to this day I cannot eat meat that has any visible clues that it came from an animal (bone, fat, etc) So I'm pretty much stuck with filet mignon and hamburger. (Thanks a lot, sis!) ... Sometimes I eat other meats but only when my patient and loving wife cuts and trims it for me... I'm such a wuss - if society collapsed and we ended up in 'survival mode' I'd be the first one to go :-) But I digress...

When I look at Kathy in this picture I also see the sadness that was always just below the surface... I never understood it. She just seemed to need something that nobody could provide... And me? Curious and clueless - nothing has changed in the past 53 years :-)

Another day I clearly recall is Dec 31, 1959. That was the day I had the epiphany about the passage of time - that the future was unavoidable and the past was both undoable and irretrievable. I remember sitting by my window that afternoon writing "1959" over and over on a piece of paper and feeling a deep sadness that it would never be 1959 again - soon the entire decade would exist only in my memory... I was one weird little 6 year old :-)

Here's another bizarre thing I've just realized. I remember the Reavis Elementary and Seven Holy Founders schools in incredible detail - the layout of the buildings, the classrooms, the playgrounds. Everything but the cafeterias... I recall the first time I encountered one of those little milk cartons (the ultimate child-proof containers) but aside from that it's a total blank. I have no idea why that would be...

There's obviously a lot more that went on during our years in St. Louis - from the countless trips to the airport to drop off and pick up my father to all the tennis tournaments my dad took me too (including some Davis Cup semi-finals). And, of course, my brain is full of completely inane and irrelevant trivia, like the facts that our phone number started with 'Flanders' and that one of our neighbors kept 14 turtles in the basement. I can even tell you the year, make, model and color of every car on our block. But I have to draw the line somewhere, right? So, the next entry will start covering the move to Philadelphia...