Walking down a road with my grandmother and falling down and getting my knee skinned up.

Redline wrote:Listening to my Dad's copy of Telstar by the Tornados when I was 2.

I have a memory of being about two and my mom sitting me on top of the fridge and putting on a 7" with an orange label that I liked.

She insists that she never sat me on the fridge and played me records but years later I found a bunch of really old 7 inches and there were a couple of Jackson 5 ones with an orange label.

My first memory involves hating my brother before he was born. My mom was very pregnant and I wanted to sit on her lap but couldn't fit because of her belly. I remember laying on the floor in front of her feet wanting to bite her.

-My grandma holding me and making inane babytalk (what other kind is there ?)

-My older brother pulling me around the house in a cardboard box

- Watching my mom vacumn to the sounds of Yes' Roundabout and that song where the chorus is, "But I got such a long way to go... to make it to the corner of Mexico etc."

-I figured out how to put Billy Joel's Glass Houses on the turntable (at 3 yrs. old) and would listen to that one song (It's Still Rock and Roll To Me) hundreds of times.

I think my oldest memory is when I was riding in the back my grandparents car, it was blue, the seats were blue, and my grandpa's seat had that weaved wood stuff on it, beach boys were on the radio, and it was a really sunny fall day, the leaves were really cool looking. I learned what a transformer was and started looking at the power lines for them.

the first time I stole something. I was at craft store with my mom in the check out, and I saw a red dinosaur button, I loved dinosaurs, and wanted it so bad, didn't say a word, or even ask my mom to buy it, just pocketed it, and took out of my pocket every now and then to look at it.

first time I skipped class. I was in kindergarden and we had to go to individual stations to learn stuff, and I skipped the math one, and hid out up stairs on the balcony in the room. never been real good at math.

every summer we'd go up north to my grand parents house we'd go down to the flowage, and try to catch crayfish under rocks. there is a dam there and I would watch the little whirlpools, and throw little sticks in them, hoping they'd get sucked under. we also would fish on the other side of the damn in the river.

at my friends cabin we made spears out of straightened forks, taped them to broken broom handles, and would try to spear fish. I atcually speared a baby blue gill, not really thinking I would have. I felt bad about it, and buried it in the sand on the edge of the shore, and said some words for it.

My earliest memory is my dad dropping my little sister off at my grandma's on my mom's side, so that my dad, my grandma on his side, and me could go see Star Wars for the first time at the local theater in Chilton, WI. I was 3 or 4.

I remember watching Luke grab Leia and swing across the trench, and i remember thinking, "WOW." For about the next three years i'd tell my grandma i wanted to be an X-Wing pilot when i grew up.

I'm sure this all explains a lot.

My first memory sounds pretty traumatic. I remember trying to ride my grandpa's 10+ year old german shepard, Joe, like a horse. We were in grandpa's yard on a summer evening...he was whittling as he often did. I don't know if I had tried this before, but that bastard did not take kindly to my "horseplay'. He bucked me off, and proceeded to maul my face. I can vividly remember his mouth covering my face from the top of my head to under my chin. He was growling viciously. It all happened real quickly, but I can vividly remember two sounds...the death growl...and the loud thud of my grandpa's foot blasting into the dog's torso taking the wind right out of the dog.

I was 3 years old and I firmly belive that dog would have killed me in a matter of seconds had my grandpa not been so close.

My grandpa lived about 20 miles from the nearest hospital. My forehead was ripped open and I had teeth wounds below my chin and in one of my ears. There was also a tooth wound beside my eye just beside my eye socket. I don't remember seeing the wounds, but I remember riding to the hospital in my grandpa's truck and an unknown relative holding a blood red towel to my forehead.

You might think this would have some profound effect on me, but it really didn't. I took a bunch of stitches to the face and have a permanent scar on my forehead to remind me. But, I've never been scared of dogs.

I have kids now and when one of them tries to mount our 80 pound boxer like a horse, I'm quick to correct them. From all accounts, the dog that attacked me had never displayed behavior like that previously. I was told the Sheriff's department decapitated the dog so that it's brain could be examined for rabies (this was 1975 folks, long before advanced rabies tests).

And they say every scar has a story...

That's crazy about the dog attack. I'm not surprised that you chose to store that first and foremost in your life.

I've noticed that dogs can act out of character as they age. Other than that, I think you probably could not have picked a more family friendly dog. Boxers are just absolutely wonderful. High (but not TOO high) energy level, very playful but not too rough (although they'll play as hard as you're willing to play... I've ended up with bloody arms on dozens of occasions), and incredibly tolerant of little kids bumping them, riding them, whacking them, using them as pillows or dressing them up. Man I lo' dat boxer dog.

I remember being less than 6 months old in the crib in Idaho. I described the room to my mom once and she informed me it was that it was that early in my life. I remember looking up at the door opening and the greenish haze from the walls and seeing my tiny feet there.

One of my other early memories is picking blueberries near Bayfield, WI when I was one and "swimming" (wading) in Lake Superior when it was way too cold and watching my legs turn blue like the berries. I had a kitty named Coconut who was a sometimes-in-the-house cat and I'd do these tumbles down the sofa where I'd start at the top and roll down the tiers to the floor. Life didn't suck too much back then because I didn't have any friends and wasn't exposed to too much contact with others.

I remember being in my high chair about 2 1/2 - 3 years old, while my mother got dressed in her bedroom, watching "The Ramblin' Rod Show", and eating a bowl of cereal (I remember it as Lucky Charms, but who knows how accurate that is), when a spider crawled up my chair, across the tray, and into my cereal.

Next to that, is my mother throwing a high heeled shoe across the living room at my adopted father while I hid under the blankets. She wasn't pregnant yet so I was under 4 years old.

I vaguely remember the kid that got spinal meningitis at the same time as me, I was 2, but didn't survive. His mother and mine had been great friends until he died. he was 1/2 Japanese. What with all the stories I was told this may be a false memory, but I don't think so.