life and stuff    



: : home     : : reviews     : : days gone by     : : who?     : : contact     : : nobel reading project     : : photos    

24 june 2002


spending way too much time at the friggin' allergist.

about you

I've been meaning to write this one for about a year now, and can't think of a better time than this moment.

It's about you guys. Rather, it's not about you. If you don't want it to be about you, that is. You still with me?

For nearly ten years now, I've led a somewhat public life where my writing and art are concerned. It's been no big shakes, but enough to leave a trail. I'm part of the public art record. On occasion, my name comes up in unsuspecting conversations between people I don't know, in places I've never been. I've been lucky; it's been enough to validate my efforts, but not so much that my fundamental privacy is in danger.

This website is but an extension of those efforts. It allows me to track my own progress on my terms, without revealing uncomfortable details that you probably don't want to read, anyway.

As I go along in my life, I meet a bunch of new people. When they find out that I keep this site, and later realize the somewhat personal nature of it, they get a little nervous. In fact, some get very nervous, and I can't say that I blame them. They haven't lived a third of their life on a stage of some sort. They don't post their thoughts and adventures for the world to Google. And they like it that way.

Inevitably, I get the occasional phone call. "Yeah, hi...um...I was just wondering...well, you're not going to write about me on the site, are you? Because...er...just no. Please don't no no no. I'll send ten bucks and black licorice ropes if you don't. Please? And, oh yeah, no."

I wouldn't think of it. Don't you worry.

Before I ever started mentioning the adventures of me and my closest friends, I guess I could have just slapped their name up here willy-nilly. But that didn't seem quite right. After all, some of them have kids. Others have endured divorces, painful family situations, or just don't want their name on the web. Or they'll compromise with me, in that I can write about everything but that night we tied one on at the pub last February.

When you get right down to it, I don't really tell you that much about myself. You know as much about me as you can read between the lines, because that's where the answers lie. The good ones, anyway.

Where you're concerned, I am not put off by your requests to remain anonymous. You're not going to mess up my day, or hurt my feelings. In many aspects of my life, I'm still anonymous out here.

As you will be. Just ask.