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I had the uncommon good fortune to grow up in a loving, stable family--definitely more of a Cosby family than a Simpsons family. My upbringing was relatively strict and very Presbyterian, and if I ever have kids I can only hope to be as good a parent as my folks were. Ok, they have their faults. One time I was heading down the stairs to the basement and overheard my father, in a fit of exasperation and unaware of my presence, say "Damn!"
I nearly wet my pants.

I was a pretty well-behaved kid, although that may be my selective memory editing out the bad stuff. I have an older sister, Debbie, and a younger brother, Rob, both about 2 years in age from me. We lived in a 3 bedroom ranch in Ballwin, a suburb of St. Louis MO, across the street from an elementary school, which functioned as our own personal playground, with swings, a sandbox, and lots of room for riding bicycles. We moved into that home when I was 4, and I don't remember much of the other places we lived.

Dad worked as a purchasing manager at a printing press manufacturer, and had two small presses that he ran in the basement as a personal business. (One of these presses was the object of his wrath in the 'damn!' story) Mom worked part-time at a seminary bookstore.

I attended private Christian schools, except for kindergarten. My junior high and high school years were, contrary to most people's experience, quite happy years. I enjoyed my friends, studying, singing, acting (but not very well), running cross-country, playing volleyball, and even dating. I was definitely a nerd, so dating was quite a triumph, and only came in my senior year.

More to come later, especially the cool stuff about meeting the love of my life and completely failing to realize it.