I loved being a kid.
I still do.
I was a kid at a time that I often wonder ever really happened
in a place that no longer exists.
It was the ’50s and ’60s in The Bronx, New York.
I still believe it was simply the greatest time and place in the world to grow up.
I write these stories to share my vivid memories of the supreme joy,
(and sometimes angst),
of being a kid.
While some of my stories are personal,
I think you’ll find many of the emotions and experiences are universal.
And while just about everything has changed since those magical days…
today, decades later...
my still scattered mind, overactive imagination, all-too-naïve innocence,
ever-hopeful view of life
and my somehow quirky everyday adult existence…
still make me think of myself as “a kid”.