August 2004
Saturday, August 21
As the southeastern U.S. rendition of Bryan Talbot, I stand in a very long shadow.
When I was much younger, I never would have imagined that anyone would share my constantly misspelled and mispronounced name. My surname was the target of so much grade-school derision that, for years, I would cringe at my own utterance of it, waiting for the inevitable reaction. As names go, I've never cared for it at all.
But lo and behold, through the miracles of current-day information technology, I discover this person, whose amazing work I'm completely unfamiliar with. Outside of one or two issues of Heavy Metal magazine, I've never had much appetite for illustrated fantasy. Who the hell knew?
Monday, August 16
School started today. For my children, anyway. One's a senior, one's dividing time between eighth grade and high school (for French and Band). We're extremely fortunate to live a mile from school. Whatever the mode of transportation, it makes life a lot easier. Yesterday, a Sunday afternoon, the senior's core circle of friends convened at our house to do a group study, of something they'd collectively put off until the day before school started. I guess they got it done; they were in the living room for about ninety minutes having an earnest discussion, then stopped to eat some of the food I'd spent two hours cooking. After the meal, they spent the remainder of the afternoon's unseasonably spectacular weather playing some form of football in the front yard.
About that weather. As everyone is aware, there's been a massive cold front blowing down from Canada, knocking August temperatures down by fifteen degrees and humidity down to nearly nothing. I have actually had to put on two upper layers of clothing for the ride into work. It's interesting how it affects one's mood. Last Friday, I found myself daydreaming deeply about the concept of hooking up with three or four other people and backpacking the entire Appalachian Trail. I had some time to kill, and surfed the web about it. I came across a small article and photo of a fellow who, when I walked part of the trail in 1978, would offer a hot shower, a home-cooked meal, and his home for the night to "thru-hikers", or people who were going the distance. I was one of hundreds of lucky beneficiaries over the years, and I can only assume and hope that he's still up there in New York state, taking in hardcore backpackers who need a hot bath and a home cooked meal, and maybe a little kind company.
Here's a 1983 photo of Roger. Click the link to "next image from this day" and you can see what kind of country I'm talking about.
So would I make that trip, and do the whole thing, from Georgia to Maine? I don't know. Regretfully, I don't think I would. I've no doubt that I could handle it physically, but six months is an awfully long time to be away from the things that make me tick, not to mention the people. There are lots of reasons not to, like money, and absence from the professional world (and family). I would have to be single, something close to independently wealthy, and would need to be with some totally dedicated people that I like a hell of a lot. Tall orders, and not my reality.
But, I can still think about it. And I'm glad to know that others have memories of Roger Brickner's kindness, and put his picture on the web.
I think the weather will get hot and nasty again soon, and I'll regain my senses.
Thursday, August 5
Recent web project: miltonbagby.com.
Milton is one of my favorite people in the media bidness, and he wanted a small website to showcase his voiceover and writing portfolio.
He was a dream client - approval of everything the first time, no unreasonable demands, paid half up front and paid the balance at upload time.
Very cool, Milton. And continued success.
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