Me.

In photos.

With my first pet, Zorro the German Shepherd. He was very protective. A neighborhood asshole threw rocks at him. Zorro broke his chain and bit him in the ass.

In my Dad’s TR4. He’d take me out driving on back roads at 100mph, seat-belted in. I have very vague memories of the rides.

Proof that I am an Irish Ginger. As I got older, hair darkened to dark brown.

Firing BB-gun at targets at my Appalachian Grandmother’s yard. Yes, I was a sniper-quality shot.

In junior high, before I gave in to the fact that I was much better shooting than I was at stopping the puck/ball. Vintage Penguins jersey. Still, looked as cool Fuck.

(second from left) I was all-county #1 orchestra snare drummer. Freshman to my left, sigh, always out of step.

10K race. Pace: 6:15/mile. Only race I beat my Dad.

I’ve been a Mariners’ fan since the original “Devil’s” trident hat.

Skipping stones on the Mediterranean.

Proving to my wife that NHL nets are 6’x4’. I’m 6’-1”.

Me.“blogging” accompanied by the best cat any human could ever hope for.

Me, plus a portrait of W. H. Auden and the artist (right) and my hockey sticks.

Grand Canyon. #GoHabGo