I’m fond of Facebook. Sometimes, however, the error messages are unintentionally insulting. In the wee hours of a recent morning. (OK, just a little bit ago.) I checked to see if any of my friends were on. None were. But the message was unnecessarily harsh. Even if it is true!
If you are bored on a Saturday afternoon, and remember that you haven’t posted at your blog in a very long time, you might just need to do something silly. This was taken with my camera phone. My vanity has three mirrors, if you tilt them just right you can see life from several angles at once. It makes you think: that you need a shave and a haircut.
There exists somewhere in a family member or friend’s possession a picture of yours truly wearing long hair and a fuzzy mustache. If it is ever produced and published you can compare it with this awesome look. Click on the image for a closer look.
I grew the ’stache for a good cause - Movember. The men in my office had a few laughs and our girlfriends and spouses were - uh- supportive in their own ways. I came in second in a very tight race for best mustache. I voted for the winner, he voted for me…but he edged me out by one vote. Remember this in the primaries. Every vote counts.
I was a member of the L.C. Singers as a Junior and Senior at Lake Catholic. I look back on those days fondly, but regret some of the choreography. So did the choreographers, as we gave several of them a very hard time. I have several stories from these days.
We would perform at varios corporate events and banquets - most often around the holidays. At on such ‘gig’ (we were performers so we called them gigs) the men’s snazzy uniforms were a nearly exact match as the waiters. As we approached the makeshift stage, a nice matronly type tugged on my friend’s sleeve and asked “Could we get some more roast beef, dear?” Without missing a beat (we were musicians, after all) my comrade said “Why of course!” I don’t know if she ever got more roast beef.
It was probably 1973 or 1974. Easter, most likely. We were not inclined to such fancy duds just any Sunday. I was probably complaining about the tie. My oldest boy will whine “Oh maaaaaan!” when we tell him he has to do something he would rather not. Looking at this picture I fear I know where he gets it!
I sure seem concerned with that candle! I’m pretty certain I was in seventh grade at the time. I really wish my current parish would revert to the cassock and surplus look. For that matter I wish they would process with candles flanking the crucifix. Or pretend to give a hoot about Redemptionis Sacramentum.
Update: Hello Flickr folks. Not a toothpaste stream - not a mannequin, just having a little fun by posting what some might consider embarrassing looks from my past. If you can’t laugh at yourself, you got problems.
This was 1983 - I think. And it is fairly obvious I was in choir. I sang baritone that year.
Not the singer, not the guy at the theater with a flashlight, not the fellow who tries to squeeze “just two more” in an already packed pew.
I was a professional usher for the Lake County Captains in 2003. My brush with greatness was asking Fausto Carmona to please move the case to the video camera out of the aisle. Safety first, people!
My big brother recently emailed a few pictures of me in my role as a minor league usher. I’ll post soon.
This is a side-by-side comparison. I’m the one on the right.
You can learn more about the guy on the left here. My brothers will appreciate this most of anyone. They remember me in second grade, when this picture was taken. They also read MAD.