Laura prompted me to write this blog. I agree. It's interesting to hear personal stories and oral histories. As I read others relating their short anecdotes, I became painfully aware of just how abnormal most of the stories I could share are... But I won't be afraid to share my abnormal ones because they're the only stories I have to share. The clichéd formulaic answer repeated ad nauseum to the question about whether or not one has any regrets that one doesn't regret anything because one's experiences made them who they are has always bothered me. While I reluctantly agree with hesitation, I think such statements rob the power of the past to teach. Well, I have regrets. The story I'll relate here is about regret that I'll go to my grave lamenting. I suppose I wanted to pick a story that taught me a lesson, and one I've never forgotten and am unwilling to ever forget. First, the back story... ANECDOTE 1: Explaining the Doctor As many of you know, my cous
It occurred to me...