Seems like yesterday that I bade the affable motorcycle magnate, my erstwhile employer, a fond farewell, and took off for Pensacola to cast my lot with Naval Aviation. Saw a nice chunk of the world as a Naval Flight Officer with the Hurricane Hunters and the Military Air Transport Service. Never zapped a Commie, but sniffed strong spoor during the Cuban Crisis and in the ever-fragrant Congo.

After that, the pesky last year of college, graduate school, a tad of corporate strife in New York, and a Big Apple bailout about half an hour before my liver morphed into a bookend. Now my battered skidlid hangs by the banks of the Chattahoochee, where I indulge the tendency to overrev my vintage VFR Honda, sail now and then, shoot a rapid or two and generally operate at the limit of public tolerance.

Likes

• My partner Dee
• writing
• reading
• motorcycles
• chess

Dislikes

• Pretense
• suits
• cooking things "well-done"