This is where the memoir begins in earnest

Well here we are at the beginning, and I have already run out of ideas.

Of course a memoir does not need ideas; it is usually a bland recitation of the facts of someone's life.

The Facts of Life was an NBC television show that ran from 1975 to the present. It featured that lady that played Mrs.Garrett, and the other lady or girl with a moustache and a love of men's fashion.

It was also playing on the television in the hospital room at the moment I was born.

My father announced that I was a boy and my mother asked him to move out of the way so she could see the T.V. screen because it was currently airing her favorite commercial, the one with the animated chuck wagon.

My mother was a dirty hippie, and decided to have me in one of those bathtub births that fancy people have. The only pool the hospital had available was an inflatable kiddie one that featured images of the entire cast of M.A.S.H. My placenta landed on Klinger's face before gracefully floating to the surface.

I did not cry at the moment of my birth, and I have never cried since, because I am really tough.

When the doctor slapped my buttocks to make my testicles get out of my body, my mother jumped out of the pool and slapped him back. He was stunned; however, his years of doctor training paid off, and he recovered fast enough to catch my mother a glancing blow across the face. At this point, my father jumped between them, only to be hit by the hard right my mother threw, her intended target being the doctor.

The impact sent my father sprawling into the pool. This really upset him because the water was weirdly warm and afterbirthy.

My mother and the doctor continued to exchange slaps and kicks until the doctor made a fatal error: my mother was going for an eye-poke and he held one hand up, effectively stalling her fingers only a few centimeters from his eyeballs. Or so he thought. In his over confidence, he forgot her free hand, which she then used to kill him.

Because they were murderers, I never saw my parents again.

Picture: the only known photo of my parents. In the background, you can see me and the Ghost of Christmas Past. We visited the moment when this picture was taken. It was kind of bittersweet for me.
The picture is undated.