Zona

Regaining his dignity, (sort of) Zona Boy demonstrates the REAL reason he blogs.

Dear Conroy,

You are, as of this posting, my only grandchild so at this point I am doing this for you. You see all those years that I said that one day I would tape record my grandmother and my dad as they told stories of their lives ended up coming to nothing because of my procrastination. So I blog for you and your siblings and cousins not yet born.

In 15 years when you read these posts (after you proclaim that blogging is SO 30 years ago) you will see some of the thoughts that I let slip in here to mainly total strangers before telling those closest to me. That's just my nature. Of course your mom and your uncle Dan pop in here from time to time. Most of the people who post comments on my blog will probably be long scattered back to the winds but while we were all here together we had quite a nice time.

Enough of that.

Let me tell you a story.

I remember my first day of the first grade, Mom walked me to school and dropped me off at my classroom door just a little late. I immediately fell in love with my teacher Miss Newman. She was very pretty and had a really nice butt. Of course she dumped me and married some old dude. Just left me there picking up the shattered pieces of my heart. Bitch. But I soon fell in love again with a classmate named Linda. She's the one with the long red hair in the picture.

She left me too. Her family moved away suddenly and when me and a friend went to look at the house where she lived we saw that it was a small house set back from the road a bit and all the windows had been broken out. Though I was only six I realized that Linda was poor when I saw the house she had lived in. It was quite run down. My family wasn't rich by any stretch of the imagination and it wasn't until I was an adult and knew the meaning of lower middle class that I realized our economic status when I was a child. We didn't want for anything and were happy but now I know how better off I am now and that it is/was mainly a stroke of luck and a few of the right decisions.

But back to Linda for just a few moments. To this day I wonder what became of her and always hope that she made out okay. Even though the house was torn down and there is a small apartment complex on the site I still think of her when I drive by.

Always count your blessings Conroy.

Love,

Grammpa

Okay blogger buddies. You should be able to spot Linda out from the description of her hair and the woman who broke my heart is pretty easy too. But which one is me?