I was remembering a darker side of myself... We lived in Pomona, California and I went to an after school program immediately after enrolling in my 3rd different school that fourth grade school year. For the 3rd time in a year I had to make friends. Compound that with the end of the school year and there you'll see the desperate situation I found myself in... so I needed to come up with something big to attract the sense of importance and it had to be big. I started my own gang. I called it the CHEETAHS and explained to the other kids how we would we practice running every day so we'd be fast. Here is what made us different... we would be helpful one day - like picking up litter and helping out teachers... then the next day we would go to the fields and cuss, talk about girls, light matches & burn things. My theory was that if anyone told on us doing bad things or if they found out that something "accidentally" caught on fire, we'd be the first ones off the hook since we were seen as "the good kids." So I recruited 3 other kids who thought it sounded fun.There were a couple of heart-pounding moments - like a fire that almost got out of hand - we weren't those "4 dopey kids trying to fill the day being helpful" that the teachers thought we were... CHEETAHS were wild. crazy, jungle animals that no sane human being could comprehend! It ended almost as quick as Cheetahs... not sure what that means, but it sounds like it should make sense. After my dad got a job 30 miles away I had to disband these fierce predators, since I couldn't keep my position as gang leader because I couldn't afford to take care of myself. Ever since the day we left, I always believed that kids needed to get their ship together! The day we moved to Redondo Beach, California was a day that evil lost a piece of its history. Life could have been brutal had my dad stayed put. SINcerely, ERIK

I must have been 5 years old when I became aware of the word FUKC. It was displayed in paint over our couch in the living room of our home. I saw the word about a dozen times EVERY DAY. Wake up, go to the kitchen for breakfast, look up – FUKC. After breakfast, go to the bathroom to brush my teeth, look up – FUKC. Get dressed to go outside, walk to the front door, look up - FUKC. Return home, open the front door, hey, look - FUKC. At least a dozen times each day for 3 years – FUKC, FUKC, FUKC, FUKC, FUKC, FUKC, FUKC, FUKC, FUKC, FUKC, FUKC, FUKC. Each 12 to 15 inch, black, bold, serif letter was capitalized. The letters popped out of a bright, heavy-textured reddish/orange background. The generic representation shown in the jpeg (if I remember to include it) doesn’t have the same intensity as the actual painting that demanded attention. How can a five year old resist becoming attached to this word.I was unsure of the meaning the entire time we lived in that house. Although, I figured out different applications of its use. I remember some of the parties my parents had back then. Bands in the living room, the smell of pot, drinks, a jumbo bag of popcorn, and the FUKC painting. Coincidently, about every adult used the word FUKC. I knew exactly what they were saying and what they were talking about... they were saying FUKC that’s the word on our painting. They must be enjoying our company, home, living room, PAINTING. Yes, we are very proud of it. Furthermore, I could bet anybody in that room any amount of money that I knew how to spell it – I was very confident that I was socially on their level, I liked the FUKCin' popcorn like the adults, Jimi Hendrix was FUKCing amazing to me also, I didn’t smoke – but I did enjoy the smell, oh yeah - we are all aware of the word FUKC -and I even knew how to spell it by heart. It is spelled F-U-C-K in case you didn’t know. I always strived to be like those hippies that produced me. I tried as hard as I could to stay awake all night with the adults. I was a lightweight and somehow always fell asleep sometime before the end of the night. I'd always be disappointed in myself. That has actually carried over into adulthood for me - but that's a story for another day. Anyways, I would get up early the next day and look through the records littered throughout the living room. Whenever I got to the album with the naked ladies, Electric Ladyland by Jimi Hendrix - (naked ladies is just as "adult" as FUKC, right?), I would stack both albums on the record player and lay between the speakers eating leftover popcorn and fall back to sleep. I felt I could do what adults could do – I was only smaller than them but pretty much just like them - in my mind. I do remember being unsure about the context I could use the word myself... I didn’t want to say it in the wrong context in front of anyone because that could negate any progress I had accumulated in my confidence in hanging with adults, and I liked where I felt I was at socially. My ignorance of the word led me to pay attention when the word was used so that I could possibly figure out what it meant – and I knew I could do it too, I had learned a lot just by looking and listening.I did have some experience hearing the word. I always thought I was a loud word. "FUKC!" I would hear my parents shout FUKCS to each other...“FUKC YOU!”“FUKC YOU TOO!”Then doors would slam. Front door, bedroom door, car door, Volkswagon Beetle starting up and then screeching away... "FUKC" was definitely a loud word. That’s probably why each of the letters F-U-C-K were each capitalized in the painting. I still wasn’t too sure of the meaning, but I was breaking new ground. I guess anyone could remember the 4 letters used to spell FUKC, but now, I had evidence that proved FUKC was also a very loud word. It was shouted as though it were some kind of ultimate wea