12-Word Summary
Shy sixty-something tree-hugging latent hippie artist old-fashioned gentleman polymath.
Brief Bio
Born and raised in central New Jersey, I've done a great
many different things in my sixty-eight on this planet. Career-wise, I got an early start: as a high school junior, my first paying job was painting signs.
While earning a Bachelors degree in graphic design from Trenton State College (a.k.a.
The College of New Jersey), I worked at a local advertising agency,
eventually becoming the art director. This was followed by a stint in the printing business, among other things. Along the way I
discovered that I had a knack for fixing almost anything, even things I'd never seen before, from movie projectors to washing machines, from tape recorders to
cars. Consequently, my nickname at the time was Spooky.
Later, wanderlust and creative urges drew me in other
directions, such as multimedia production, voiceover work and sound engineering, followed by computer animation and video production/post production in Manhattan.
During this time I also designed and built my own four-axis motion-controlled pin-registered 35mm camera for special effects photography,
which became the engine of my own studio for several years. But my timing was off: computers had just started killing off the
traditional graphic arts industry, so I moved on to desktop publishing and then marketing, eventually becoming the marketing manager for an optical instrument
manufacturer. In the 90s I also worked as a commercial web developer, in addition to doing technical illustration and technical writing.
My final career move before retiring was to become a software engineer for a major pharmaceutical company, which turned out to be the most challenging and rewarding
decade of my professional life.
While flipping my first home in my early 30s, I began to
hone my nascent skills in carpentry, plumbing, electrical wiring, drywall, tiling, and just about anything else to do with home improvement. I exercised all of
these skills—and many more—carrying out a lifelong dream of building my own home. Although I have more hobbies and interests than
I can count, model railroading undoubtedly tops the list, having been practically an
obsession since I was five. No doubt the peak of my modeling career was
securing a patent. Writing and photography are
close behind, and I've published a number of articles on a variety of topics. Plus, I've created dozens of websites comprising thousands of pages for businesses
and for myself.
Cinematography is another passion, and in a different life I'd have been a filmmaker. Science fiction in any form—literature, film, television, art—competes for my attention with science fact. Music is also an enormous part of my life, and I'm playing something virtually 24/365; I even create my own music. And only recently I discovered a heretofore unknown talent for caricatures. Who knew? I can honestly say that I've never been bored—I don't even know what boredom is like—and I never expect to be.
As a person, I'm probably not the most agreeable one
you're likely to meet, given that I'm more opinionated and verbose than most folks prefer. But I'm also painfully shy, with a very strong aversion to crowds
and parties. Never had any offspring, and never wanted any, mostly because I dislike children, but also because I thought it would be cruel for a child to
inherit any of my personal baggage. I'm not about to claim I've had the worst childhood of all time, but it was still
bloody miserable.
Unfortunately, my adult life hasn't been much better, having been screwed over by entirely too many erstwhile friends and loved ones I'd trusted, including and especially my parents. It's all left a surfeit of emotional scars and a disposition for chronic depression—I've already spent quite a few years on the couch trying to undo the damage; that I'm twice divorced likely speaks volumes about my messed-up nature as well. Consequently, I prefer living alone in the woods: trees are non-judgmental, and they won't abuse or betray you.
Age in photos, top to bottom: 17, 21, 35, 62, 63.
Out of Time
On 20 February 2020 I was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. My heart had an ejection fraction of around 12% (20% is considered critically low); it's estimated I had a few years left to live. Among other things, I wouldn't get to finish the house I was building. And I'm perfectly fine with that. Getting as far as I had was much more than I'd ever dreamed possible. Finally, owing to health and financial reasons, I was forced to move in October 2022.
I'm not the slightest bit afraid to die; indeed, given the dire state of the Earth, and what people are doing to it—and to each other—I don't really care to live all that much longer. I was never keen on becoming a frail elderly man, anyway, so the diagnosis was strangely welcome, although it has admittedly messed up my head: living under the perpetual threat of a death sentence with an unknown execution date and no chance of commutation has made the last few years... challenging, to say the least.
Get To Know Me
There's actually a way for anyone to "know" me
without us ever meeting, and long after I'm gone: the language of music can allow you to get a sense of who I am. Play just
the third movement (Romanza) of Ralph
Vaughan Williams' Fifth Symphony.
If you're willing and able to completely surrender yourself to the music, you'll find the piece imparts volumes of emotion almost impossible to articulate,
painting a painfully vivid portrait of my soul—listening to it still makes me weep—despite being a mere twelve minutes long. While the
performance by the
Philharmonia Orchestra under the baton of Sir John Barbirolli is perhaps the most nuanced and deeply moving, I've honestly never heard a "bad"
rendition of the Fifth, and I've heard a great many of them.