November 21, 2024

About Mark…

Except for a few hysterical shepherds, my birth passed largely without notice in the world at large. I was born into a Marine Corps family—both my mother and father served. We moved around a lot, and so I have lost track of a lot of my grade school friends over the years. That’s one of the nice things about Facebook.

So, I don’t have relationships that go back to the first grade like a lot of people, but I got to see the whole country on 24.9¢ gasoline, from the back seat of a Rambler. So, when I got to the next new school, The Little Bighorn wasn’t just a few paragraphs on the bottom of page 86. I’d been there. Dad would get orders and he’d pack some clothes and head out. Mom and I would stay with the movers and then load up some snacks and the dog and we’d head out. But mom would stop at every Scenic Overlook 500 Feet On Right and Historical Marker Ahead and we would talk about what we had seen for hours on our way across the country. That’s where I developed my love of history.

I play guitar. I used to be good. I’m not, any more. When I was seventeen and eighteen I was playing six and ten hours a day. Now I count myself lucky when I can play four or five hours a month. I miss it. I tell people that when I play now, I can hear the seventeen year old me laughing, but it really is all about practice. I’m hoping to be able to spend some more time with it soon, because Music has always been a big part of my life.

I make Web pages and I teach Web technologies. I used to say I had the second-best job at the local university. There are people there today, still building Web pages with the techniques that I taught them. I miss that, terribly. But I got caught up in one or another economic crisis and was one of thirteen people invited to stay home after fourteen years. I’m not bitter, really. Just… disappointed. I took a temporary job soon afterward at the local NPR affiliate, and then got caught up in the “Sequester”. So, I’m back looking for a job, but thinking more and more about striking out on my own, as a freelancer. I did that for a dozen years before joining the university, and I enjoyed it a bunch. It was scary, at times. But I really enjoyed the freedom and the ability to work overnight, if I wanted, or on the weekends, or at the coffeeshop, or when- and wherever I wanted.

I need a dog. I’m certain that there’s a dog out there that needs me, too. If you know of one, please let me know.

I married my Sweetie back in 1990 and we still find interesting things to see and do and talk about. I don’t think I could ever do as well there, again, so I’m not interested in trying.