I need to engage in writing exercises that’ll help me polish up the dull habits I’ve formed since leaving college in 2006. This will be Part One in a “Writing 101: Serially Lost” assignment.
46-years ago that old Kay acoustic guitar was just about as big as I was. But I somehow managed to fumble around with it enough to learn three basic chords: G, C, and D. You can play a lot of songs with just those three chords. I was 12-years old and when I finally learned how to play Houes Of The Rising Sun things around our house had started to burn like the sun!
They’re painful memories, memories best left buried. But they’re a part of who I am, I’ve never written much about my childhood, partly because I’m afraid of what I’ll write, and I’m also quite apprehensive about how it might be taken by members of my family. I suppose I can try to dig up a few bones. I’ll have to pick at them, for now anyway.