For
almost as long as I can still remember, I have been the "nervous type." I work hard and constantly busy myself in
other ways in order to calm down and smooth out my involvement in the world. My extreme nervousness was probably triggered
by my brother's sudden death by misadventure in a boating accident in 1970
when he was 13 and I was 17. After that things,
which were already dicey, took a turn for the uncertain worse and
I found myself clawing for any possible
handhold on stability and sequence. Outside of my
family, I don't think anyone really noticed my inner
gyro failure and flailings (that's how
life is once you hit 17), and inside my family there were only other nervous types and predators who preferred things to be that
way. I was extremely lucky that by that
time I lived away from home for most of the year.
