I, Brian Joseph Kindamo, was born in Washington, Pennsylvania, to Michael and Donna Kindamo on June 22, 1976. There I spent the first three years of my life. I surprisingly have a few memories of that place way up on the hill. One of a small girl about my age with a prosthetic arm/claw (apparently she was my neighbor) throwing sand in my eyes. Another of my family sledding in the backyard down a hill into the woods. And one other of running up the stairs to my empty room (we were moving or already did) and seeing dead flies on the floor near the window.
From PA we moved to Coral Springs, Florida, where we stayed long enough for me to complete the 2nd grade. In this town I learned to ride a bike, and to create things in art class. One summer when my grandparents came to visit, my grandfather, Pap, threw old white dog turds at me and my sister while we ran around the yard screaming. It was during our stay here that I became afraid of heights for no good reason at all.
The year is now 1983. We packed up from that flat-landed place and moved to another almost as flat town called Largo, Florida, nestled between Tampa and St. Pete. Here is where the fun really began! My parents decided I should go to Catholic school though I had never been to church except on the day that I was baptized. I was a tad bit confused, but being 8 years old, I had no idea what in the hell that was all about. Religion class, uniforms, and going to church every Friday (with classmates) and Sunday (with family). My sister never adjusted to the idea, she is 6 years older than me, and lucky they put her in public school. She used to burst out in the middle of mass laughing because she couldn’t believe the shit she was hearing ( I assume at least). I was the quiet one mind you. Anyways, I became an altar boy and I honestly was never molested or touched in an awkward manner. I know it is hard to believe, but very true. This is where I began to really get into drawing. When the book fair would come I would spend all my money on ho to draw… books. I loved being able to makes things come to life on a piece of paper. After class me and some friends would share our pictures with other. Those were some times. Well not too much else happened during those years…riding bikes and skateboarding and other kid shit…nothing exciting at all. You thought I was going to tell you something interesting huh? Well, too bad for you, I guess. The only highlights might have been when I thought we were going to die on my dad’s 18ft. boat. We were 20 miles out deep sea fishing and got our anchor stuck on a shipwreck we were fishing on. On the way back in, the water was so rough that my mom got sick and my sister got bounced around the front of the boat while hanging onto a rope. That is one funny story that I can’t relay like this…it just won’t be done any justice, though I still laugh out loud when I think of it. In 1988 my sister graduated from high school and moved to Gainesville, Florida to go to UF. We on the other hand, the following summer, moved to Pleasanton, California.
I started the 8th grade in Pleasanton, at a public school to boot, and it was some scary shit. I had about 3 friends and it seemed to me that everyone else wanted to beat my ass. And when I say everyone, I mean everyone. I hated that place. I wasn’t really a nerd or anything (my grades definitely show for that), I was just a quiet kid who just dressed badly. Shame on me, you know? Whatever, fuck all you assholes who were dicks to the new kids and I hope somewhere down the line you get yours or already have. Fuckers. My parents took me to San Francisco a few times, and that was fucking cool. One time we took a field trip to the Monterrey Aquarium. I think that the sights driving down the coast were more impressive than the aquarium and I definitely liked the aquarium. On October 17, 1990, there was an earthquake that hit the bay area. That shit was crazy! I watched the pool in the backyard uproot itself and splash and splash everywhere. Then it was over. The pool was ok, don’t worry. I think that must have been the last straw for my mother, who really hated California too, because in February of the following year we were on the move again.
Welcome to Peachtree City, Georgia…. at this point I found out that I was either too drunk or I left the house for something and it is where I left off…one day soon I will try and catch you up on the rest…until then, let your mind wander.)