I have always had a healthy imagination. I didn't think it was anything out of the ordinary to make up stories and songs. It's just something my brain has always done. I grew up playing with imaginary friends and thought everyone had that experience, at least to some extent. I was really shocked the first time I talked to someone who never had so much as a pretend pet, much less an imaginary bestie.
The first imaginary friend I can remember is Hogo. He's a short guy, blond hair in a Beatles bowl cut and big glasses, and, get this, I always saw him in black and white. It's probably because I was a big fan of Simon in the Land of Chalk Drawings on Captain Kangaroo at that time. He showed up when I was about 4 years old. I can remember playing with him at my grandparents' ranch during the summer before my family moved to Baton Rouge. He had a stick horse just like mine and we'd have races together around the chicken coop. It's going on 40 years now and I still remember his scowl when I won.
So this blog is dedicated to Hogo; he may not be corporeal but he made my childhood far more interesting for his friendship.
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