I'm in a bit of a nostalgic mood, particularly 1968 nostalgia. This is how I remember my 11th year on this planet.
Had my favorite teacher ever. Mrs. Inge. She was the epitomy of intelligence, grace and possibility. Through her I learned how deeply tragic the shooting of Martin Luther King was to so many. She brought in a portable television to our class the morning of his funeral. I saw my teacher cry.
Realized that I loved cars. My particular favorite was the Camaro. GM was getting it right back then.
"Shook" Bobby Kennedy's hand on the corner of Locust and Jackson. Swore I'd never wash that hand!
Understood that we had the absolute right to peacefully protest against the government. The images at the Democratic Convention in Chicago were confusing. Not so much today. Hmmmmm. We need to protest, peacefully more.
My favorite buildings were the Marina Towers in Chicago. Not only architecturally, I aspired to live in a round building sometime in my life, but also conceptually, a city within a city. A concept way ahead of it's time.
My favorite color was purple. Primarily driven by the colors of the high school I would attend in three years, and my obsession at becoming a cheerleader.
Finally, I absolutely loved tap dancing, not so much love for Greek School.
It was still relatively simple in 1968, but not for long!