Young and beautiful, someday your looks will be gone...

This is one of my favorite pictures ever. It is my cousins; Michael, Kegger*, and I. This was in my mother's photo album for many years with the caption under it, Mo, Curly and Larry the Easter Bunny. JoAnna said last night that we look more like a heretic and Captain and Tennille.

Kegger, Michael and I were definitely the three stooges growing up. Or maybe the Three Amigos? Or the Three Musketeers. Actually, we weren't very slapstick, and we rarely traveled to Mexico to save the mayor's daughter from an evil gang leader, and really, there was very little call for us to protect a king. I think we were probably more along the lines of snap, crackle, and pop.


When I was younger, my mother didn't work, and when she did start working,I spent every day of every summer at Michael and Kegger's. We had some great summers. We would ride our bikes EVERYWHERE. We once rode the, three miles from my aunt Karen's to my house. Now, that is not a terribly far distance. But when you're 7, 8, and 9, respectively? That, my friends, is a safari. We also would ride the 2.2 miles from Karen's to our aunt Laura's. Aunt Laurs was the coolest, because she had the Disney channel, so we could go voer to her house and watch the New Kids on the Block concert. We played tennis at Palmer Lake Park, we rode to the big Brookly Park Library, we were too poor to go swimming at the community center, so instead, we'd swim in the pond outside the city center, illegally, and jump off the fountain.

One time, we were riding our bikes to the library, and when we took the path that leads to the bridge over 694, there was a man laying on the grounds by his bike, bleeding profusely. Michael and Kegger stayed under the bridge to help the man, while I ran up the hill to the Hilton to call 911. He was gross, there was blood everywhere, all over him, the ground, everywhere. I ran up the hill to get the desk clerk at the hotel to call 911, she took some convincing, but she eventually did it. I ran back down the hill to the boys, to find that the man had left. He woke up and they couldn't get him to stay. So, we panicked, and we took off, because we didn't wnat to be found at the scene, without the man there, we'd get in trouble for sure. We hauled ass back to Karen's and shortly thereafter heard the ambulance sirens, and cop sirens. Looking back on the situation, given the neighborhood and such, the man was probably on drugs and terrified that he would be arrested. We were quite lucky that we didn't get killed or something else.

ah, youth.

*Kegger = Craig. When Michael was little and Kegger was born, he couldn't say Craig and called him Kegger, it stuck. I don't know that I ever even tried to say Craig.