Hello Scott

The first time I saw Scott was in the operating room at Porter Hospital in Denver. He decided to flip 180deg without telling his mom or anyone. So he was born emergency c-section. His mom passed a massive blood clot. The epidural left her blissfully unaware and I played poker-face to put her at ease. Our luck, two nurses failed to show for work. Little Scotty drowned in amniotic fluid, so I suctioned his airways out while the doctor hooked up tubes in the tiny infant ICU cart.

That was 9-3-93.

He was a pistol. No wonder, he had ADD. I didn't trust that diagnosis because it seemed to be a fad for every sorry-ass parent to blame their horrible parenting on a fictitious disease. But as we found out, not shit, Scott very much did suffer from ADD.

Growing up, Scott was one of the most sociable and popular kids throughout elementary school. He got so many scholastic achievement awards, we got to know the mayor, John Hickenlooper, because he kept presenting at the ceremonies. Then
by coicidence, Scott's mom taught the mayor's son. Mayor Hickenlooper became governor Hickenlooper.





 

Scott loved his Hot Wheels cars