About

Well, it’s taken me 21,535 days to get to the point where I feel compelled to tell you about myself. Some of my contemporaries never made it to 21,000 days so I’m grateful. And, I’m thinking “better-late-than-never” never applied to any wanderer more than me.

Yet, even after all of that time, I’m still obliged to merely mosey over to this website as the mood strikes. Laziness? Pain avoidance? No, I don’t think so. Soaking up the anticipatory glow of future accolades is more my style. Our band first hit the stage when I was 13, and the show is nothing more than a jumble. The butterflies as we waited in the wings are with me today.

I want to languish over those long-ago events, at least the many pleasant ones. I want to learn from the past, too. But, I need to mask out the wisdom imparted from post-mortematic 20-20 vision in thinking about the bad days. There are many reasons for mistakes, but most are only learned after the fact.

Finally, as a writer, I will always be persnickety in polishing my words until they blind like the shiny finials of the majestic brass bed I still picture when Dylan sings, “Lay Lady Lay.”

All of this painstakingly-deliberate lolly-gagging, and still all you’ll get is a picture of who I see reflected in the vanity mirror that hides my wrinkles, warts, woeful inadequacies and all. So, take this with a few grains of salt, preferably clinging (the salt, you, both) to a cool, wet glass of the mixed drink of your choosing. I still like sugary drinks as much as a syrupy story. But, I’ll try to refrain from laying on too thick an icing.

(Stay tuned, but don’t hurry. This could take awhile.)