Life History

I was born in Cinncinati, Ohio ( my folks were living in Kentucky at the time, I think this was the closest Hospital that didn't have chickens running around in it.)

I lived in Peaks Mill, Kentucky 'til I was 14. During that time I almost died 4 times. Maybe 5, a couple of times my memory was a little hazy after the incident. But I am here to tell you that a Coma is a great time for self reflection.

My parents were heavily into old timey livin'. Tee-pees and Long rifles and hats made out of things that used to be small mammals. We did revolutionary war re-enactments and the like. Dad played gee-tar and Mama played Auto-harp.

I didn't have TV 'til I moved to Chicago. There was a large hill in front of the house in Peaks Mill that blocked all reception. Sometimes, I'd watch at our next door neighbor's house. Next door was a quarter of a mile away. Sometimes that was too far, sometimes it wasn't far enough.

I went to Peak's Mill Elementary school. Randy "macho Man" Savage once came and wrestled in our Gym. Tickets were $1.50. I got picked by one of the teachers to help them Load and unload their equiptment. While I was helping Randy picked up a condom wrapper off the floor of the truck. He said, in a voice that sounded like he gargle clam shells," Hey I wonder who this belonge to?!?" They all laughed and right then I knew I wanted to be in show business. Sad, isn't it?

A Professional Mime( yeah) came to my Middle school and I was picked to study with him all day. Because the teacher thought he looked like he could have been my father. At an assembly during last period. I had to perform for the school with some other kids. The rope, the wind, the box, it was *cough super. Then we had to make up a "Mime activity" of our own. So I pretended to be hit in the chest with a spear, I yanked it out and acted like my beating heart was stuck on the end. I pulled it off reinserted it. Looked happy for a second then I burped and fell dead. They called my parents. I don't know how it happened or when it started but somehow, in Kentucky, I became the local mercy killer. Anytime there was a terminally wounded or sick animal. They would hand me a towel and a hammer and I'd have to put it out of it's misery. "Bambi's got a limp that ain't gonna heal. go git Hal" I get the feeling some of you are starting to understand why I am the way I am.



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