You're getting served

OK, to fullfill my promise to post more frequently, I'm taking Erin's advice and telling what my life was like in sixth grade. It's not a proud moment in my life, and it's something I haven't told anyone about. Not necessarily because I'm ashamed of it, but because I haven't thought about it in 20 years. But it's weird what you remember when someone brings up your exciting life in the sixth grade.

I used to be in a gang. And I don't remember what our name was or if we even had a name. We all decided it was the cool thing to do.

In sixth grade my family lived in Seoul, South Korea. And I with a group of impressionable youths. And we had just watched "Beat Street."



Every weekend we would watch "Beat Street," "Breakin'" or "Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo."

No, we weren't a bunch of gangbangers roaming the streets of Itaewon causing trouble. We all wore black Members Only jackets (they cost $5 because they were made there), and we would breakdance around the apartment building after school. I'd like to say we had rival gangs, but we were the only group of kids our age in the building, so it was just us.

So now you know. And the next time you see me, don't bother asking because the answer is NO. I will not breakdance for you.