About Me

Practically every ‘about me’ page of a blog seems to be cast from the same mold. The blogger tells you about his wonderful spouse, his three most excellent children, all of whom have been accepted to an Ivy League School on a full scholarship, assorted and miscellaneous pets, and the wonderful life they all lead in a restored eighteenth century farmhouse. Well, that’s not me.

While I do have a wonderful spouse, she comes with baggage. For instance, she likes ska, and yet I’m still married to her. Also, she has actual baggage, and it’s my job (and sometimes I believe the only reason I get to accompany her on her travels) to hoist it up and put it in the overhead bin.

We have no children. We had a dog, but she died. Before that, we had a lizard, and he died. We have two houseplants and they are only clinging to life by the tips of their stamens. We take that as a sign from a higher being that perhaps we weren’t met to take care of living creatures. So what affections we don’t dedicate to our extended families, we devote to inanimate objects. Like books. You can’t kill a book from loving it too much, can you?

The rambling Colorado shack we live in is only eight years old and continually threatened by voracious wildlife, fires, mudslides and howling blizzards.

With all the free time we have, since we have neither kids, pets, nor restored farmhouses, we devote to travel. Also it’s freaking cold here for eight months a year so the only thing that keeps us sane is planning for a trip, going on a trip, and returning from a trip, looking at the bathroom scale, and resolving next time to skip the chiles rellenos.

Along the way there’s eating and drinking and reading and walking and rides on trains, and flying in planes, and sailing the seven seas in ships. We look for adventure wherever we can find it, preferably adventure that comes with six hundred thread count sheets and room service. Though we have, in a pinch, toughed it out with four hundred thread count sheets, but there were complaints. And whining, lots of whining.

Throughout everything we do, there’s one philosophical concept that guides us. Naw, philosophy is too high brow. So, we have a motto:  If youre not laughing, youre not doing it right.

And such a snazzy dresser, too!