The Prodigal1 is putting together his photobiography2 to fulfill a requirement of his vocational rehab program.3
Because I was pulling photos for this presentation during a good portion of the time I had planned to spend merrily blogging away and because the project and my son were on my mind, some of the pictures have transmogrified into today’s post.
My personal favorite of the shots occupies the top right corner. The caption (not shown on the collage) is “My father has always stood behind me and supported me”
The Prodigal and I crack ourselves - each other - up
Footnotes
- The Prodigal, for newcomers, is my 21 year old son who is recovering from head trauma caused by an auto accident earlier this year↩
- I suppose this compilation would be more correctly or at least more precisely termed a photoautobiography, which also has the advantage of being more fun to say, but that construction looks suspect.↩
- While I would not argue against the value of this task, my immediate and automatic response to similar assignments I have received to compose a narrative of my life has been and continues to be the opening line of Salinger’s Cather In The Rye, If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth.↩
