Dreams of Our Youth

A number of folk in the Salon blogverse have been posting pictures of themselves at 16. This began with a challenge from Dick Jones, and includes (among my personal faves) pictures from Ms. Candide and Marsh Mallow. I did a frantic search of surviving photos in my collection, and failed to find anything specifically from my sixteenth year. However, I can embarass myself with a couple of shots on either side of that mythic time.


I estimate I was aroung eleven when this shot was taken. I cropped this from a picture taken with my father, step-mother, and step-sibblings; you can see my step-brother's elbow on my left (your right). Don't quite know why I have that goofy expression on my face. My comment this morning was that I looked like a dork.


Here I am, eight years later — 19 years old, with long hair and a hint of of a goatee. The gentleman on the far right is my father (as you may have guessed), and the lady in the middle is gran. You see just the top of my guitar bag, which represents my very first guitar, a Silvertone.