It Started with a Pickle Crock . . . my life that is. You see Mom was very pregnant with me and was inadvisably moving a heavy clay pickle crock in the garage, unpacking from the big move to our new house. She felt a twinge and soon was in labor with me a full month early. I have a few peculiarities which I attribute to the extra month of prenatal development that I didn’t get. Just ask my wife and kids, they’ll tell you that my brain function is impaired. I’ll let you be the judge.It Started with a Pickle Crock takes a look at my life, using embarrassing pictures of myself and others whenever possible. It covers my childhood with stories about my big sister, ill-advised neighborhood games, adolescent science experiments, poker, football, and dancing. I delve into such grownup affairs as customer service battles, irresponsible parenting, vacation mishaps, workplace weirdness, beer, and gruesome animal tales.I move on to an impartial look at spousal arguments (they’re all her fault), and list words and phrases which my family has banned me from saying. I recap injuries I’ve suffered over a lifetime of activity and present to you some unfinished stories which, if I had more discipline, could become bestsellers. My 8-month-baby mind tells me so. The final chapter is a compilation of random things presented in Jeopardy format. Ready? Hands on buzzers. Go.