I was 2.
Umm, is there some special significance to this day in 1962? Hate to seem unsure, but hey, I was 2.
Ummm on this date in 1962 you were actually being born Sue…Happy Birthday to you Canadian Sue :).
[I knew there was a way to work that into the SDMB today 
]
Keith
Got a pic of your mother? 
I turned 11 that year, and was going from 4th to 5th grade. (for those without enough fingers and toes, yes, I’m 50) 
Where were you in '62 was the catch phrase concerning the movie American Graffiti, correct?
I was a year from being born. My parents got married that year.
That’s 5th to 6th grade you idiot. Think you need to worry about your own fingers and toes.
Sleeping, pooping and eating.
I was born in January of '62.
I missed the first half of the year, but the second half was okay, as far as I can remember. I was in California from July - December that year.
In 2nd grade. We had just finished moving to our new house. Funny, I remember where I was when Kennedy got shot, but I don’t remember anything about the Cuban Missile Crisis. Guess the excitement of moving overshadowed it.
Sleeping, pooping, eating, and learning to talk. I turned two toward the end of '62.
Hmmm, things haven’t changed much, have they, Ike?
I was in kindergarten—I still remmeber the name of my teacher: Priscilla Dunkirk. That’s what happens when you don’t do drugs; you remember EVERY GODDAM MINUTE of your life.
Nine years from being born. My parents had been married for three years.
Born that year, in May
I was born in August of 1961, so I guess I was crapping in my diapers and sucking on bottles–not all that different from 2001, really.
Well, why do you think I DID all those drugs?
The first 10 months or so I was in high stakes training for a November swim meet - a true life or death match. I won the meet and shortly thereafter began showing off my math skills by rapidly dividing. Kind of ironic, actually. My parents multiplied and I divided. But that’s the kind of guy I am. Harmony in the universe and all.
In August '63 I was born.
I wasn’t even close to being born yet. My mom was 2,going to be 3 in January, and my dad was 4.
The first 4 months were great, then I got shoved thru a tight space into a cold bright room and a scary doctor smacked me on the arse. It’s been downhill ever since.
" . . . then I got shoved thru a tight space into a cold bright room and a scary doctor smacked me on the arse."
—So what? That used to happen to me every weekend when I went dancing at Palladium.
I was in the 2nd-3rd grade. Wanna hear…err…read a story bout me in the third grade? Tough! I’m telling it anyway. I will not to this day eat beets by themselves. They’re ok as a part of something but by themselves they are the food of Satan. I was in the school lunchroom and we had beets that day. I didn’t eat them, of course. My third grade teacher apparently was having one large case of PMS that day because she insisted I eat the beets. This was not the first time I had never eaten beets in her presence mind you. I said I don’t eat beets. She told me that I was going to sit in the lunchroom until I ate them. So I sat. Hell, I’d have sat there til this very day before I’d eat plain, nasty, disgusting beets. An hour or so later the school Principal came into the lunchroom. She came over to me and asked me why I was in the lunchroom so late. I told her my teacher said I had to stay in the lunchroom until I ate the beets but I don’t like beets. She told me to put my tray up and come with her. She took me to my classroom and told me to take my seat. She then called my teacher into the hallway. I don’t know what the Principal told my teacher but I don’t think it was good. I got real dirty looks from ol teach when she came back into the room. My teacher called my mother that evening to tell her about my refusing to eat beets, which apparently meant that I would grow up to be a godless heathen with absolutely no redeeming qualities. (Damn, she was right!:D) My mother told her that I won’t eat beets at home either and to call her WHEN I actually did something she needed to know about. BTW, I missed the first two days of school at the start of third grade due to illness. When I went to school, this same teacher wanted to keep me after school 30 minutes a day for a week to make up what I’d missed. When I came home late from school Mom asked why and I told her. My mother went to school with me the next day to question this. I remember her saying: “Just exactly what did he miss? Handing out books?” I didn’t have to stay after school anymore. Sic em MOM!!!
I hated that teacher. I didn’t give her a Christmas or last day of school present and didn’t even participate in the class collection to buy her a gift from the class either.
Just thought I’d share.
I was still an egg in my Mom’s 13 year old ovary. My Dad was 14.
by the way ** swampbear** that teacher sounds like the woman I took high school geography from. She hated me because I never did any of the homework including the “big” paper and still got a “C” in the class becuase I got 100% on all the tests. What a nasty woman.