K.C. writes me occasionally when she's not working or studying or playing since she likes to get letters from me even though she lives only a few blocks away.<BR><BR>One day K.C. writes,"One out of every 10,000 babies is born with a tail, and I think you were one of them. They cut the tail off at birth and usually don't tell the mother. You have a scar back there as I recall."<BR><BR>My bathroom mirror is mounted on the wall at a height where most faces fall, so when I pull my pants down to examine what's left of my tailbone, I can't see my butt or my backbone because the angle's wrong, and my head won't turn far enough around anyway. Maybe Barbie or Regan MacNeil could, but they wouldn't need to.<BR><BR>Even with a hand mirror, I can't see the mark because the complexity of reflective angles defeats my desire to examine my body's geography. The mystery remains right where anybody but me can see it.