I remember being x-rayed when I was 2 (broken collar bone). The table was metal, hard and very cold. A nurse asked me if I wanted a pillow and when I said yes, she put one under my feet, causing me to think 'wtf?" for the first time.

Minor point, the funeral was on monday, but yes there was nothing normal on TV from Friday afternoon throughout the weekend. :)

I remember the huge backyard between us and the neighbors when we were living in military housing while my Dad was in Europe. I was less than 2 when we moved out.

Sitting with my dad watching the weather report .

Oh! The best (or worst) one! I was 2 1/2 and had gotten into the St. Josephs aspirin for kiddies--the orange flavored kind. I was doing "commericals" with them--watching myself eat the orange disks and then smile like, "...and now Jenny's ALL BETTER!" When mommie found out it was a bit, er, unpleasant.

I had a simalar experence with Filnstones vitamens , those grape Bam Bam's tasted SOOOOO good !!!!! When my mom got me to the emergency room to have my stomic pumped I had gotten my fingers stuck in the front winshield defroster vents , then they pumped my stomic , ( this is GROSS ) , i rember the corn getting stuck in the tube , they finaly just gave me a BIG does of Ipacack and sent us on our way . Mom had to have her Buick repainted after i painted the side ALL the way home :vomit: :vomit: :vomit: :vomit:

I remember learning how to walk, so I must have been no more than 18 months old. It was in the old Eduardian townhouse in Richmond, Virginia, where my dad's family lived, and they were passing me around between the family members sitting in chairs. Even from the beginning I had to do it my way, and I squirmed out of somebody's arms and headed for the nearby coffee table with one arm out to hold onto it but I didn't make it that far. I did one of those baby-flops with both hands on the floor, which was covered by an ancient Afgan carpet, red with patterns I've always called "popsicle designs". That same carpet is now stored in my guest room and the home that was in our family for 100 years is now sold, so I will probably never give up that carpet.

It works perfectly.

The first major label release that I played on as a keyboardist, I sent a copy to the surgeon who had done the operation, who was amazingly still practicing at Stanford Hospital in Palo Alto. It's amazing to me that it has any sensation or dexterity at all, but he did a remarkable job reattaching it.

-sm

I don't really know how old I was, but I couldn't have been more than 3, probably as young as 2. We were preparing to move from California (this would have been 1958 or 1959) to Kansas City. My father is loading a box truck with our stuff, rolling it up a ramp. I'm sitting on the driveway, turning (what I now realize was) a socket wrench, toggling it back and forth then twisting the socket, and then asking him if the temperature had changed inside the truck (he and whoever was helping him were complaining about being hot; apparently I had some notion that the wrench was a thermostat or something).

I have a few extremely fuzzy images in my brain of the drive back in the family car, which my mother and I made separate from my father, who drove the truck. I remember my mom worrying about my father's whereabouts when we stopped at one point in the desert.

Very little else, if anything, until I was more like 4 1/2-5 years.

I remember riding in the "way back" of the family station wagon as we travelled from Pennsylvania to Illinois to live. I had a blanket, coloring books, and a big bag a Cheetos Cheese Puffs. I was two, maybe two-and-a-half.

To this day Cheetos are my primary comfort food.

I had a white baby bath and I was making something in it (possibly a mini town out of plasticine) and for some reason it was filled with water (maybe I was making a lake). The next day I discovered a huge dead spider floating in it, which gave me horrible feelings of repulsion and guilt. I remember either leaving it there or doing something to make me think I was a horrible person. I had to get mum to clean it out because I couldn't bear it (poor woman). I was between the ages of 2 and 6 at the time (because of the house I was living in).

I also remember having whooping cough at the age of 3 or 4, not the actual coughing but watching Sesame Street on mums shitty black & white TV in her bedroom.

I also remember being in town with my mum and a stranger asking me where I lived, so I dutifully recited my exact address including postcode. Mum later informed me that this was not something I should tell strangers, which was probably the first instance of enormous confusion over what people say and what they actually mean (read The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime). Again, I was between the ages of 2 and 6.

Oh yeah and I remember during the same period there was a cat that lived next door, or a few doors down, who was always neglected, so we decided to adopt it. I remember one day putting it (or perhaps it was another cat) in the dustbin and sitting on the lid. It then occured to me that this was incredibly cruel (although I was curious, and I think I got some sick pleasure from it at the time, feelings of control....???) and promptly removed the cat from the dustbin, stroked it and apologised, while feeling very guilty indeed.

Christ this is quite revealing; no I don't have a history of animal abuse or anything, quite the opposite, but perhaps it explains my feelings of doubt that I'm a good person and my insistence on truth and reality.

I remember getting burned by the steak platter. I knew I cried and remembered that the restaurant's interior design was very blue. And that a male waitress brought a first-aid kit for me. My mom said that was when I was about two.

My brother had an even earlier memory than me (he was about 1 1/2 years old). We went on a cruise boat and these people offered my brother beer.

I remember finding an opened, half-full root beer can sitting by a tree at a local park festival, and picking it up and walking off with it. Then I wandered back to my mother and she (for some reason which still eludes me) let me keep drinking it. My mother's not visibly pregnant with my brother in pictures from that festival, so I had to be less than 2 1/2.

I remember yelling at the woman who took care of me everyday while my mother worked. I was furious because she had disciplined her older son for annoying his sister and myself, who were the same age. She had declared to him that I was his sister's friend, not his, and he needed to leave us alone. I clenched my fists and screamed, "I'm BOTH their friends!!" Again, my brother wasn't born yet, so I know I was less than three.

I remember my mother being very pregnant with my brother, and my father telling me that she had accidentally swallowed a watermelon seed and it had grown in her stomach.

Wow, not even 3 and dumping on a female for coming between you and a male. ;)

Earliest memory, huh?....hummm...I think it was roast beef. Yeah, I had a roast beef sandwich for lunch yesterday.

Damn CRS disease. :banghead:

A very, very loud noise. I had turned a bunch of silver knobs to the right until they wouldn't turn anymore, then pressed a bunch of buttons. One of the buttons resulted in a unbearable noise and my father dashing into the room from the back of the house. I remember Dad quickly hitting a button to make the room quiet, again, and then promptly moving me away from the stereo cabinet to another part of the room.

He kept the old Marantz unplugged much of the time after that. Around one year later, I'd be responsible for destroying the television by dropping coins into an open slot in the cabinet on the front, shorting out some components on a board. My knack for electronics remains to this day.

Not an early memory, but I had the same experience when John Kennedy was shot.

Everyone ready to feel old? My psychology class last year touched on the subject of early memories. "Of course", the professor said, "we all have our important memories that were imprinted through shock. For my generation, it was Kennedy being shot -- we all remember where we were when we heard the news. For your generation, it was The Challenger exploding. How many of you remember where you were when you saw that on the news or were standing outside and saw the launch?" My hand went up and I turned to look at the class of 100 students. Five other hands. The professor was confused, until a student in the back said, "I was one year old, so my parents had to tell me about it later." Another replied, "I wasn't born yet."

Oh, god. Sigh.

That's horrifying. As was the fact that I was looking up alumni from my high school, and realized that everyone I ever knew is over thirty. OVER THIRTY. Do you remember when that number seemed an eternity away?

No.