I have been delving deep, finding some hidden treasures, muddying the water. There are many stories to tell, and I find myself in a quandary about what and why. I talked about the past and about sleeping dogs and about holding onto memories like touchstones with my girl JJ as we walked beneath the branches of cedar trees in the muffled woods on the north side of the hill. I told her some thoughts and some of the things I have changed in my life. This LICK magazine intrigues me like an accident, like someone missing a pinky finger, like a scar. What's the story there? What demons my memory holds in check. What memories are my own, not to be shared.