About Me


I was born under the sign of Cancer- the Crab.

No shit.

The crab is hard on the outside and soft and gooey on the inside and I have to own that one.

Each of us has a self-image and like the “artist formerly known as Prince”, I see myself symbolically as:


The Tai Chi symbol is commonly accepted as representing the Chinese concept of Yin and Yang.

According to Wikipedia, “In Chinese philosophy, yin and yang… (“dark-bright”, “negative-positive”) describes how seemingly opposite or contrary forces may actually be complementary, interconnected, and interdependent in the natural world…”

To my untrained eye, in reverse, it looks like two sperm cuddling in the “69” position. One black, one white, each possessing a single eye of the opposing color.

Seriously, look at it in a mirror.

Aside from being plentiful, the Chinese are a crafty bunch with centuries of wisdom to share.

Sorry, I digress.

Without diving too deep into the symbolism, my point is simply that I know I’m irreverent, crude and politically incorrect while, at the same time, I consider myself kind, caring and intelligent enough to figure a way out of a wet paper bag.

I’m a champ at reflection and self-evaluation and self-destruction.

I’m good, I’m bad.

Ever since I was a boy, I have been a student of human behavior and interactions. It serves me well professionally and personally except when women are involved- but I’ll save that topic for later.

In my house, I have a display case filled with procrastination trophies. The biggest one is for planning to, but never writing anything.

Several of my friends (and my son) are published. I admire their ability to paint with words compelling enough to tell a story or are powerful enough to stir my emotions.

I admire writers, I love musicians.

I may not be a good writer but I damn sure have no musical ability what-so-ever.

This is unfortunate because the greatest source of joy in my life, other than people, is music. Music speaks to me and for me- it comforts me and raises me up. Music moves my soul.

If you choose to keep reading, remember what Confucius said:

“Let those among you who are free from sin cast the first stone”.

Actually, if you are paying attention, that was Jesus, but you get my point- if you don’t like what you are reading, don’t be a hater and, for God’s sake don’t throw rocks. Metaphorically or otherwise. Just google “cat videos” and move on.

I’ll go ahead and apologize to Judy and Fran and anyone else who is offended by my use of profanity.

And Mom, if you are up there watching over us, and you have learned how to use a computer, you should probably close your browser now.

Profanity can be eloquent- it is certainly adaptible. I’m prone to it and come by it honestly- but not from my parents.

At the age of 14, during the summer, I lived with and worked for a giant asshole on a sailboat in the Virgin Islands.

Islands, sailboats, no drinking age and occasionally topless women- sounds like 14-year-old-boy-heaven right?

Trust me and 45+ years of reflection on the experience.

The captain. Was. A. Dick. Of epic proportions. And I learned a lot.

Not only did I learned to cuss, I witnessed and experienced verbal abuse and the toll it exacts. I learned to keep my mouth shut to avoid the wrath of Dick. I learned something about perseverance and hard work (read slave labor). I learned how to manipulate, in his case- a bully, to get what I wanted. Manipulation is a dangerous skill but it can be handy too.

I also learned that “living hell” is real. It is a place where a single moment lasts for eternity.

I have three brothers and I love them all. One of my brothers has been my business partner on two different occasions.  The most recent for the last 22 years. We work well together because we have very different styles and skills- we communicate honestly and make each other stronger and better.

Perhaps I should have married my brother.

But I didn’t.

My parents have both passed on. We were a close family with fairly standard family dysfunction. I loved my parents and I know they loved me. I have come to understand how blessed I am; I know there are people who cannot make the same claim.

I’m a good Crab. Rarely have I shown my gooey insides to anyone. I feel like I have been single my entire life, including a 19½ year marriage, but I have never felt isolated. I’m not trashing my ex-wife. We both blame our failings on each other and the truth lies somewhere in-between.

On the positive side of the ledger for both of us- we produced a son.

My son is my greatest accomplishment. He continues to grow and flourish professionally and personally. I could not be more proud of the man he has become. He is a much better person than me. He has a cool job. He is kind, caring, gentle and intelligent.

My son has a growing digital footprint. Please don’t confuse the two of us in the online world. I don’t want him getting splashed while I stomp thru the muddy puddles of my life.

If you are wondering why I’m comfortable putting my warts and hickeys out in cyberspace for all to see and critique, well, my friends, ask Lisa.

Lisa is my therapist. I love Lisa, she is the bomb.

I’m certain she wanted to slap the ever-living shit out of me on a few occasions but she always maintained her professionalism, even when she was glaring at me and shaking her head. I’m glad I couldn’t read her thoughts and I’m pretty sure she burned her notes before showering after our sessions.

She saved my life and I’m grateful. Not so much in the physical sense, but in the I’m-about-to-lose-my-shit kind of way.

I haven’t seen her in few years and thus far, I have failed to share that tidbit of info with her-but I think she knows.  Perhaps she will stumble across this blog or else I’ll have to man-up and go tell her myself.

I have a bucket list, I’m working on it.

If you get a call from an unknown 336 number or a vaguely familiar man shows up on your doorstep, you have been warned!