There's a fog clearing out. Hazy clouds dissipate. My first memories coalesce into pictures and sounds I can still smell, taste and feel to this day.
It's not all roses. Far too young to be unshapparoned by a responsible adult, wandering around and chasing the older children to keep up.
I'm maybe 4 or 5 years of age now. With a group of other kids I'm tucked below a window. Hearing the sounds of heavy breathing and moans. What is it this? I'm introduced to the word "sex" before I ever knew much anything else. A young couple demonstrates this education unwillingly as mischievous children play in the streets looking for a thrill.
My mother or father of course have no way of knowing of my education in the same manner nor did my demonstrators. However, a child of such an age left to be guided by other less responsible parties; one can only expect poor guidance and such encounters, as curious minds are not typically cautious enough.
Another cloud clears and moves through the atmosphere.
I'm still rather young. It's so early today. I'm driving with my father in his work truck, possibly on my way to school, maybe spending the day with him at work, those clouds remain. What I do clearly recall is the sound coming from the speakers in his work truck. Through a cheap radio and rattling speakers I hear the sounds of a guitar and passionate voice. Clapton. It's peculiar and riveting all at once. My father tapping along on the steering wheel. Not even aware of what emotions are...I'm feeling many of them. The speakers cry "Layla!....you got me on my knees". There I am. I have found music.
