It's a great city, and one of my favorites in the world. Unfortunately, it rains a lot. I remember a summer when I was in high school when I felt really dealt a bad hand by the big guy in the sky since I had a plantar wart on my foot and needed to go to the doctor's once a week. Wrapped in bandages, I could't do any water skiing at the beach where we lived. But as the summer wore on I didn't feel too bad -- there were only about three days of sunshine all summer long;-)

My first memory isn't so much as a memory as a recollection of a photo. The first house we lived in was on a steep hill in Seattle. I must have been about 3 years old when we moved to a house on Corliss in the Wallingford district and not far from the University of Washington. It was and is a great little urban neighborhood full of coffee houses and a Chinese restaurant that to this day probably serves the best almond fried chicken in the world. Some of my first memories are of looking out the window from my bedroom up on the top floor, looking over 43rd street, and seeing the Aurora bridge and downtown Seattle. I could see the future somehow, and yearned to do something with my life that would be useful.

I can now look back on that little kid's dream with some satisfaction that I've lead a life of some integrity. Seattle was a great place to be raised in a neighborhood full of eccentric people who were nonetheless friendly and open. It was a community where you never felt threatened, and where there tons of activities and things to do. Adult clubs went out of their way to show up in schools and recognize talent. There were great trips to the farmer's market for Brem's pickles and whatever was available during the scarce times of World War II.