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Childhood: Brought to You By the Letter C.

Memory is an odd thing. Much of childhood seems to be lost in the mists of time, represented only by vague concepts and few specifics. Only sparse and random moments stand out with clarity from the general slurry of preadolescent remembrance, but once in a while, those lost memories resurface in alarming detail, shocked into reanimation and sending the victim lurching back into one’s youth.    Last fall, my wife and kiddo and I traveled south to Atlanta, GA. We endured the cramped drive and the unintentional detour through the outskirts of the Smokies to meet a lovely new baby. Juliana is the adorable wee beastie who is blessing the lives of my friends, Mark and Lynnette. Mark has been a close friend since high school, and it’s wonderful to see he and his wife checking off the box marked “parents” on their already formidable list of qualifications as exemplary humans.   Of course we had to sight-see, but I had no idea Atlanta would fill me with wonder and childlike delight not once, bu

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