Here I am as a baby. My lungs didn’t work the way they were supposed to, and since I wasn’t getting quite enough oxygen, my skin stayed an interesting blue color for weeks. This worried my parents; as for me, I just enjoyed being blue while it lasted.

This is me at the age when my father says he found me riding my trike on the freeway. Actually this isn’t quite true. It was more like a very busy highway—and I was only going down the entrance ramp. My parents always did exaggerate in order to tell a good story.
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