A SELF PORTRAIT THAT DOESN'T LOOK A WHOLE LOT LIKE ME

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But I spent too long on this too put it aside, daggone it. When I was young, we lived in Ohio for four years. And we kids used to say "Dag" a lot. Not as shorthand for "daggone", but more like a "wow". Like if we saw a flattened lizard on the street, the correct thing to say would be "Dag!" When we moved to Knoxville, I learned very quickly that they didn't say "dag". They used all the real bad words, including the 'f' word, often accompanied by "you". The first time I responded with "I'm rubber, you're glue, everything you say bounces off me and sticks to you" was also the last time, because that's when I was beaten to a pulp. Anyone who reads this blog knows that I prefer not to be beaten to a pulp. So it was, on balance, a negative experience for me. In Tennessee, I was shocked to discover that kids came to school in t-shirts and jeans--and sometimes barefoot! And here I was in gabardine pants and some kind of plaid shirt. Pulp time! Today, when I see a carton of Tropicana Orange Juice that says, "Lots of Pulp", I get a little twinge. That could be part of a kid who said "dag". No, I don't really. I just said that for comic effect.