I grew up in a small town in upstate N.Y. I have a brother who is 2 years older than me, and my parents were married until I was 25, they divorced when I was in prison for the second time. (for a parole violation). I was at the end of my 2-6-year sentence for robbing a bank.
The first time I was really in “trouble” as far as I can remember, was 1st grade. I was hanging out with my new friend, Donnie, and he found a can of spray paint by the school yard. There was a shed that belonged to the cemetery next to the school, somehow, next thing I knew I was involved with this kid spraying swear words on the shed. We got caught, and the next day our teacher made us stand in the classroom all day. Which I can remember crying at some point and practically begging to sit down.
Maybe I was labelled that day as a trouble maker, I’m not sure, but I know I was sitting outside of the principal’s office quite a bit through elementary school also. I was full of ego and self-pride, even at that young age. I remember going to lunch, and going right to the front of the line, no questions asked. Sometimes other kids would buy me lunch 
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