When I was a child, Mom told me I could be anything I wanted to be.
According to my birth certificate, I was born in Harris County, specifically Houston, Texas, in Herman Hospital at 1:30 a.m. on August 22, 1957. It has been suggested the human brain is a computer, and every experience is logged into the processor. I have a black-and-white panoramic image etched into memory. The walls before me and to my right are large, smooth, white rectangular tile with black-framed chicken wire glass windows to a view of similar white tile rooms. There is a black circular frame on a clock on the white tile pillar to my left. The clock reads 2:10. I missed my first few slaps on the butt, if this surreal memory is actually the event. There is a sterile aroma in this safe place of my mind.