Marital status:
Married
Children:
3
Occupation:
semi-retired ER physician, artist
Comment:
My portrait was barred from the yearbook because I took my shirt off and the photographer wouldn't give me a drape, yuk yuk. I'm in there somewhere though. I only went to Stuart one year, so most don't remember me, but I'd gone to Glen Forest (2), Wilson (3), Congressional (4)--because I flunked 3rd,--and Bailey's (5-6) before going to Berlin, so I had some old friends. The problem with most school reunions is that guys and girls date different ages; the girls I knew were mostly in the 10th- and 11th-grades. BTW, in case you're into Dan Brown, beachum = abcehmu = 1 2 3 5 8 13 21... It's associated with the Masons, suddenly appearing in their records in the 14th century, after J and U were added to the Latin alphabet and long before Fibonacci.
What is a story from high school you would be willing to share?:
One day I was pulled from class by two pigs (sic) because they had a tip that there was some reefer in my car. The car they took me to wasn't mine, but they didn't ask and I didn't say. It was a sporty red POS (a Skylark?), and their "tip" turned out to be a huge roach clearly visible in the open ash tray. They said it would just be a matter of time to get a warrant, so I gave them permission to search. Once they got the roach, I told them that the car wasn't mine so they couldn't use the evidence. I thought one of them was going to hit me, but they just left without even asking whose car it was. I never found out whose car it was either, but I'm guessing the pigs finished off the roach. Sorry. BTW It was I who made phone calls to the Post, WEAM (then the biggest station in metro DC), and WTTG, Channel 9 (now FOX...Go FOX!). I'm in the bottom left panel of the last page of "The Race Relations Assembly" comic in the Yer Analysis "Peace Valley" number. Actually, I was trying to get the school closed for a day or two. I loved Stuart, and always went to school for at least part of the day, even when I was suspended (5 times). It was always a party and, then as now, SAT's made HS moot. I figured that, if we were all let out, we could go to the beach. But if those are flies around me in the drawing, know that I was a paperboy (with Gary Mayne and Allan Graham) and drove a delivery van on weekends; I didn't have time to work on my doo or an "underground newspaper" that pandered to the liberal sensibilities of its writers' mommies and daddies (enough to make a cat laugh). The comic had that nasty Crumb aftertaste that says volumes about liberals' pathognomonic sexual frustrations and compensatory arrogance, but at least Crumb had the honesty to put it out there. Also, whenever I let some girl brush my hair, everyone said I looked like Shirley Temple, not what a 17-year old wants to hear. However, if those are bees swarming for my ichor, then the YA dweebs must have known me better than anyone who was hip knew them...running around the halls congratulating each other on "YA staff appreciation day"...sheesh! Basically, YA was a service club for people who wanted to be in a service club but weren't asked--the service-club lampoon panel proves it. So YA'ers did school projects in their free time...sad. Ille sapit quisquis, Postume, vixit heri. I'd feel sorry for them but...They knew that the admin would know exactly of whom that drawing was, but they didn't put their names on it, so they anonymously ratted me out. A typically liberal move, motivated by envy, just like socialism. I don't need to say what kind of envy. And yes, it was June, but my sister was a sophomore. (Sorry kids, but someone has to throw down here, otherwise only the liberals' fascist version of history will survive...again.) Okay, I'm on a roll now. Fact: Everyone truly hip wanted to waste fascist North Vietnam. To protest the protesters, we went downtown to the protests to sell lawn clippings sprayed with Raid to liberal farmboys come-on-a-hippie-bus-from-Michigan-to-protest-sumpin' (oddly, the Raid made it smell right, and a palmed sample of some good stuff closed the deal). At $100/pound I made over $1,000 at the moronatorium alone. And in the end, we won that war. We caused Russia to spend itself into a terminal depression (like P-Bo's trying to do to the US)and the impoverished and enslaved Vietnamese now make lawn-mower motors for us for $0.14/hr. So why was there so much fuss against the war in Vietnam, a war against socialist fascism? In comparison, there's only been a little ratcheting up of the left's usual aspersions on America's character while we've been in Iraq and Afghanistan, wars that are in the best interests of ------? Who envies his younger sibling enough to try to harm him, to want to enslave him, as to a pharaonic socialist monopoly; and who were the leaders of the anti-war movement in the '60's and '70's?... Ain't rememberin' the past fascinatin'? I guess I've still got that '60's protestin' spirit; I'm sure we all want to keep that flame burnin' strong, even when the smoke gets in ours eyes. [Our '09 Christmas pic is in the "current-photos" album here... Hey, there's my dry cleaner!] NB, Some might recall that I always said "sir" and "ma'am" to teachers. Some chided me for hypocrisy. The point was this: it gives you something you can turn off, and adults desperate for respect will do anything to get a kid to turn it back on...What's my name?... Man, I do miss the '60's!...That reminds me: At that age, my favorite book was The Master and Margarita, translated by Mirra Ginsburg in '67. I had assumed that a lot of people were on to it, especially after Beggars Banquet. I know Jerry Bowen and Allan "Aardvark" Stephani knew it. As only teenagers can do, I tried to live that book, so if you didn't know about it, a lot of what I said and did in those days must have been unintelligible and seemingly...devious...deviant.
