The Lost Years

I was a photogenic little boy. I always looked happy as I mugged for the camera. Over the last few months I've been scanning photos into my computer from my mom and dad's albums. Yesterday I came across a photo that reminded me of the time my model worthy face turned to crap. That would be the years from eleven to sixteen. Besides the problem of pimples bubbling to the surface of my face, I had a problem with my eyes. As soon as somebody said "Smile for the camera.", they would start to water. It was uncontrollable. It was as if there were a valve in my head that would open up the moment somebody whipped out a camera. I was such a mess, tears gushing out of my eyes while giant pimples throbbed to the surface. I remember one year where a huge pimple seemed to navigate across my face, over my nose, and down my chin. It never seemed to clear up, it just moved. So from 1961 through 1966 or so, almost every picture of me has me either tearing up, wiping my eyes, or in some cases the photo just didn't turn out because of the glare of my nose. I assume it was all hormones wreaking havoc, flooding my body, and creating puberty fever. Thank god for the high school yearbook photographer and his handy airbrush.