10/24/00: Confused Fetus
I was conceived in New Orleans but born in Minnesota. This made me a somewhat confused fetus, I'll bet. I left Minnesota when I was a few days short of three and I've been living in New York pretty much ever since.
I have no real memories of Minnesota. I can vaguely remember falling down the stairs since I apparently did that every day. I can also remember, vaguely, my third birthday. We stopped at a Burger King on the way to New York and we put a birthday candle in a hambuger for me. I tell this story to people sometimes and they think it's sad. My whole life I always thought it was cool.
Aside from those little things, I don't remember Minnesota. And naturally I don't remember New Orleans. But I feel an affinity for both places. Like I do with Potswoli, Italy. Which I'll tell you about sometime.
I wonder if, someday, I'll return to one of these places, like salmon swimming upstream. Would any of them have any sort of significance to me?
You hear about people visiting the place where they got in a car crash, to sort of stare it down, say, well I survived that. What would I have to say to Duluth? I guess something like "It's all your fault, but thank you."
More musings that involve my childhood. I promise that none of them are particularly precious.