Small warning:  I have limited access to the internet right now, so it may take me awhile to process comments.

I repeat myself. Sometimes a lot. My kids point it out every time, thank you very much. They say this can come with fibromyalgia, but I am never sure if it’s that or just my age. If I am repeating myself here or in any other post, I apologize.

I remember very well the first time I learned of true violence. One human being really hurting another. Crossing that line by taking a life by intention or just trying to hurt someone so bad they ended up there.

I was maybe 5 or 6. We were watching tv with dinner on an old black and white television. Since I was born in the sixties violence on the news should have been common enough, but this was a movie. I think it might have been the Bowery Boys or a similar older film.

I can still taste the roast beef hash that was dinner that night 40 plus years ago. There were too many carrots and its tasted pretty tangy. I think it was a gang in the movie beating a boy to death. The details I remember best are the smells and tastes and how my stomach hurt.

I was horrified, but said nothing to my parents. I spent several days and nights thinking about people so mean and a young kid that had finished life early. Eventually the feelings became less sharp and didn’t seem to paralyze me as much. But every time a new shock entered my world, that queasy feeling and the memory of the boy on television resurfaced in my thoughts. And I could smell and taste the tangy hash again. That smell and taste is forever linked for me with people committing violent acts against another human being.

Does everybody remember an abrupt loss of innocence in early life?  I haven’t asked many people, so I’m not sure.


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