Child of The Sixites- A Memoir
Growing up in Northern California in the 60s and 70s
I was born on a warm September day in 1958. At the time, Sacramento was a small town that played a big role as California’s state capital — the proverbial little fish in a big pond. As a newly-minted Californian, I was no different.
All my life, I felt out of place and out of step. I desperately craved acceptance, but I never felt entirely accepted. I would go on to live the Walter Mittian life of a daydreamer, chasing big ideas and lofty ideals and trying to do things I had no business doing, leading to years of false starts and failed finishes.
As the eldest of two boys growing up in the ’60s and ’70s, I was a restless hippie searching for something exciting, interesting, new, and novel. I desperately wanted to stand out by excelling in everything, which created my intense competitive drive. Sports were a logical outlet, but I was never big or strong enough for football, basketball, or baseball — so I became a runner! I still am.
It would take me sixty years to finally appreciate my middle-class roots and to accept myself just as I am.
Meanwhile, I embarked on my life with much enthusiasm! My earliest memories- the sixties sparked a fire in me that still burns. I gravitated to the art, music, and film of the sixties.
