The Years of My Life, 1962

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

1962.

The summer. 1962.

My parents gave a task to do:

See—I’d take English 101

And have a bit of summer "fun."

“A sort of head start,” so they said.

“It’s time, you know, to use your head.”

And so I took that freshman class

With Prof. McKinley—hoped I’d pass.

And in that college class—a B,

And I was kind of proud of me:

I’d written essays, read some stuff—

And none of it was merely fluff!

The year rolled on—I did okay.

But basketball just … went away.

I learned much later than I should

That I was really not that good.

I found some friends—some still remain.

(At times I was a bit insane.)

And then my heart got bruised and bumped:

When Spring Break came—well, I got dumped.

That high-school romance ended—boom!

Inhaled my first foul breath of Doom.

On the horizon—sophomore year.

More mess-ups lay, oh, very near.