Well, the real truth is, there isn’t that much to me! I don’t have a great plan to take over the world, and I’m not much in the mood to write about myself — I’d much rather write comedy, or insightful articles, or screenplays, or menus than write about myself. Not that I dislike myself, it’s that I’d rather not toot my own horn.
But maybe I will… someday… feel free to check out the links on the rest of the site. There is plenty of fun stuff~!
Ok fine, twist my arm! (OUCH! Not so hard, putz!)
Well, let’s start at the beginning. I was born in Denver, Colorado on January 8, 1973. Yes, this means that in the short term I’m going to be 30! It also means that most of my friends are already passed this date, which means they are living large in their fourth decade of life. Hey, at least they are living.
But I digress. Born in Denver, which means that I’m a Broncos fan. It’s in the water, and now in my blood. The really hysterical thing is that I’m not allowed to watch them play. I’ve never seen them win a game, and when I miss every game in a season they win the Super Bowl. My mother has forbidden me from even going near the TV on Sunday, and any Monday that they would playing, she manages to call my boss to have him work some overtime into my life. And my overtime doesn’t involve pigskin or a million-dollar-plus salary, dammit!
I lived in Denver till I was 5, at which time my father, apparently losing a bet, took a job with Mountain Bell in Helena, Montana. For those of you who’ve never heard of Helena, I have but one thing to say to you: “Learn your damn capitols, freak!” Of course, this means that if there weren’t a big marble building with a dome on it that looked like it should be in D.C. there, no one would have heard of this town.
Now, don’t get me wrong, Helena is beautiful. So is a postcard. Get the postcard.
There are three great things that have come out of living in Montana, for me. You can see pictures of them all, they are Janna, Julie and Keithi, some of my best friends in the world. They know me inside and out, and I can’t get away with shit from them. Of course, should any of them become rich and famous, I will either be paid off or bumped off. But it’s all good. Don’t get me wrong, I do have other friends from Montana, but they are not as close, even though they are just as good. I’d put pictures of them here, but they aren’t appropriate until I need the money.
Living in Helena was. That’s it, it just was. I left when I was 18, went to school in Bozeman for three years.
Well, ok, I did have some good times in Helena. I was one of the founding members of the Helena Boys Choir, and we toured Japan, through the Sister-City program in 1984. We got to see Kyoto, which is the sister-city to Helena, and we got to see Nagasaki, Tokyo and a lot of people. Well, I got to see a lot of dark hair, because even at 11 I towered over most of the Japanese. What a great feeling, let me tell you. Not that I was ‘looking down’ on them, but I was tall and could see everything. Especially our chaperones, who were even taller, one of whom was 6’5”. He stood out, let me tell you.
Also, while in Helena, I discovered a fondness for acting. My first ever audition was with the Grand Street Theatre, and I sang the Oscar Meyer weiner song. I was 8. It was for Peter Pan, I wanted to be, at the very least, a Lost Boy, although in my heart, I wanted a lead. Peter Pan would have been cool. Tinkerbell would have been accurate. I didn’t get in, but I didn’t give up, either.
While in Helena I did commercials and public service announcements for various local organizations, and did some theatre in High School. I was a pimp in a play, Marcus Lycus in A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum. I really do love to act, and sing, and I try to dance, but I’m fairly sure that I look like the understudy to the Hippo in Fantasia. Beautiful tutu, but standing in the wings, doing nothing but hoping that I can go onstage, and fearing that I might actually have to dance. My comedy is good, but my dancing is better comedy than my jokes.
In college I got some great dramatic teachings. Yep, I did Brecht’s Mother Courage and Her Children and I played someone so evil and mean and closed and aweful it took two huge bottles of cheap wine to get me back into good spirits. After which, I promptly passed out and puked. Weird moment in your life when you are so drunk you can’t remember what you were drinking, you are laying on the floor, and a voice in the back of your head says, “Kevin, you are going to throw up in 10 seconds, move to the bathroom.”
“Ok,” I think, “I’ll get up and go puke in the toilet. Come on legs, let’s go.”
“Um, legs? Are you there?”
“Hey arms, can you move?”
“Holy shit, is anyone there? What’s going on with my body?!?”
“LEGS! ARMS!! NOOOOWW!!!!”
“This is your five second warning.”
“Come on! Hurry! Do something!”
“Oh god, thank you! Movement! I detect MOVEMENT!”
“Wait! Shit! I’m still on the floor! What moved!”
“This is your jaw, I’ve just opened up.”
“Shit! My jaw? Where are my legs?!?”
*****The sounds here have been edited out for the squeamish, of which I am one. Deal.****
“Jaw here, we’ve ejected vomit successfully onto the carpet. I wouldn’t recommend rolling over.”
“Dammit! On my carpet! My cleaning deposit! Oh, cripes!”
“Legs here, did we miss anything?”
Oh well, I survived. It could have been worse, it could have been chunky. This was one of the last events of my college years in Montana. I lived with Jen at the time, and she’s still the jazz pianist of my life. She’s extremely cool, and we love her. I’m working on her website, which I will have done once she sends me the stuff I need to do it. Promise. Really. Honest.
But I survived my college years, although I left before getting a degree. I figured if the people that are supposedly the brightest are teaching, teachers would be making the most money. Movie stars are much brighter than physics professors, but only because of their income levels. This is America, after all, we do know how to value some things. Especially the dollar itself.
I moved to Portland, Oregon on May 8, 1994, and I remember the day because it was Mother’s day, and I got a traffic ticket. I hate cops. I’m traveling from Bozeman to Portland, which is where my family lived now, so in effect, I’m going to see my mother on Mother’s day, and I get a ticket. Heartless bastards!
Oh well, shit happens. A lot.
During my four years in Portland, I worked at the Riverside Hotel (now branded a Four Points Sheraton). I worked every department, from front office, to restaurant, to sales, to executive offices, and really and truly worked a ton. I learned a lot about hospitality, and that the easiest way to calm an irate customer involved alcohol. If they didn’t drink, they weren’t going to calm down for nothing. Fact of life. I met three of my best friends while working at the Riverside. Holly, Cyd and Victoria are all still a big part of my life, even though I live 1600 miles away. I’d put pictures of them up here, but I don’t have any of them. Odd.
After giving up the Riverside and spending some time as a waiter at Paddy’s restaurant, Victoria, who I shared an apartment with, asked if I wanted to move to Phoenix. Why not. So we did.
I worked for Planet Hollywood, Phoenix, which was an experience to learn from. I will leave it with just one more comment. It’s closed, and it’s no wonder to me. After leaving Planet Hell-ywood, I decided to head back to Paddy’s and Portland. After a summer of no sun/all rain, I had to leave again in September, and I ended up back in Phoenix. I had tried LA, but it wasn’t working at all.
Back in Phoenix, and back with Victoria for a bit, then living with some friends from the Planet. Scott and Jim are to this day some of my best friends. Nevermind that during the course of living with all three of us in a studio guest house, we all lost our jobs, we all got new jobs, we then all lost them again, then all went to work for a temp agency, and I slept in a tent in the backyard, by the pool. It was interesting to say the least. Actually, it was really funny, as we referred to the tent by the pool as “The Cottage by the Lake” and I have been Queen of the Tent People ever since. The tent didn’t long survive my moving out to my own apartment, but it’s not for reasons that Jim insists on. But we won’t get into that.
I lived in Phoenix for just over 4 years. I worked as a temp all over town, at places like the Heart Hospital, an HMO, the City of Phoenix (which was actually the best assignment ever!) and Garrett. I became a full-time employee of Garrett Aviation in April of 2000, after nine months of temping. I got laid off from Garrett in August 2000 and recalled in October of 2000, and I just left there in February of 2002. I really enjoyed working at Garrett, even though some of what I had to put up with could cause the pope trauma, but I can deal as long as I get to eat.
Chocolate is my friend.
In January 2002 I accepted the position of Copywriter with ATX Forms, Inc., a small software company based in the wilds of Northern Maine. Actually, it’s in Caribou, Maine, which you’ve probably heard of because it’s consistently the coldest place in the Northeastern U.S., other than Leona Helmsly’s heart, but does anyone even remember her?
There are so many projects that I get to work on at ATX that I’ve gone from being the Wordsmith (like a Silversmith, but different) and the Webmaster (kind of like a dominatrix, but less leather, and no high heels) to being the Chief Dream Officer – and there aren’t many times I get to nap, so it’s hard to work! I’m constantly busy, but I get to learn a ton of stuff, and working at ATX I’ve discovered what a great company can be with the right people. You’ll never find a better group of people, even if sometimes they could drive me to drink.
So, that’s me as of 2003. I started this blog in 2004, and wrote about what was going on in my life as much as I felt comfortable, and there’s a ton more I could write. I shall have to chum this water up a bit, as it’s now 2009 and this is in sore need of updating.
More than that, I’m back in Helena, and it’s better than it was. By far.