There is indeed an 11/74 and an 11/78. In 11/74, I was in Atlanta, Ga, 9
years old, 3rd grade. We lived in the projects there, and I couldn't go
outside without getting beat up. But we had a babysitter whose back yard
we could play in, and though we'd be filthy every day when our mom picked
us up (the back yard had no grass, only this fine dusty gray dirt), she
never once seemed to be upset about it; she just took us home and sent us
to bathe. Same thing when we were staying with another sitter at a
much younger age who had dirt floors in her house and fed us chicken a
lot. I always had a feeling that it wasn't right; sorta felt guilty about
it, because I knew how hard she worked, and that she liked to keep
everything clean. But I figured it out about 10 years ago as I was
driving off to work one day, watching her and my daughter in the front
yard. My daughter was playing with our dog in the mud after it rained, a
huge smelly wet English sheepdog, and my mother was sitting on the steps
of our house, watching her with a big smile on her face, enjoying her
enjoying being free to get as dirty as she wanted! Not a big thing, I
guess, but it helps for me to think about that as my daughter flies out of
her room, headed to the mall or something, her room in complete shambles.
So yeh, 11/74 is, and so's 11/78. (:
On Tue, 9 Feb 1999, Joseph S. Barrera III wrote:
> >Ummm...Yeah, Joe. We caught it. Just didn't want to make ya feel bad
> Uh huh. Right. Okay, tell me why
> 1. There is no 11/74.
> 2. There is no 11/78.
> This is a closed-browser test. Answer from your own personal memory only.
> - Joe