To Any Go-Getting Publisher with Access to a Checkbook,
My illusions began in a remote boarding school in the woods of Maine, where at the age of thirteen I kept a journal containing—what I believed—were some of the most original and prolific ideas of the century. Soon thereafter (with team members Marco “The Italian Sausage” Navarro and Kenny “The Dominican Baby” Goris) I began illustrating a series of comic strips entitled, The Adventures of Rambino, which depicted our science teacher lewdly engaged with, among other things; a fellow teacher, the principal and a cat named Spicoli. Although The Adventures endured for months on the sly, disciplinary action eventually ensued. I recovered some tattered remnants while cleaning out my mother’s basement last year: still funny.
Extra Curricular: Theatre, Soccer, Lacrosse, Wrestling, Track and Field, Detention.
After dodging disciplinary bullets from a slew of high school educationalists, I found myself majoring in English at Bradford College, Massachusetts. Although typing Massachusetts continues to plague me, I received honors at Bradford (and a special invitation to the Dean’s office for creating flyers depicting dorm proctors as Italian Fascists, including a sagacious critique of school policy), before making a timely transfer to The University of New Mexico. There, I would further my studies while getting a deep, encouraging tan. I began writing for The Daily Lobo, a periodical which—at the time—was so lackluster it can only be described as a real “piece of shit”. I also served as the Phi Gamma Delta writer-in-residence before getting ousted for impeding with the hazing process of a pledge. Call me a hero.
Extra Curricular: Drama, Girls, Drinking and Girls.
After college I decided to investigate why both The Beach Boys AND David Lee Roth wished they all could be California girls, and somehow landed in the KWMR studios of West Marin. It was that, and because you just can’t go any further west without getting drenched. At KWMR I wrote for the newsletter, conducted interviews and produced a variety of programs, winning the National Lewis Hill Award for excellence in radio. After three years the station hired a new program Director, who was displeased with my apparent tendency for “innuendo” and eventually terminated my position. I believe utilitarianism was mentioned. But I maintain—and will fight to the death—that I never broke FCC regulations, so fuck it.
After licking my wounds with a three page letter and a bottle of whiskey, I began to raise questions about Life, Love and The First Amendment™. (Just kidding about that book title—but seriously, do you know a good publisher?) In any case, I figured these questions could be answered best in a place like Thailand, where a transient’s unemployment could be stretched to its maximum economic capacity, or in my case: three months, two weeks and a day. My adventures in Thailand became the foundation for a novel of a more serious nature, which is now finished and awaiting publication. No, wait… I still haven’t submitted it.
Currently I’m working on a comedy book, a radio play, an array of skits and an endless mass of one-liners scribbled on bar napkins, scrap paper and grocery receipts. Call it ADD. I’ve performed stand-up comedy at venues across the country, and wouldn’t be exercising my right to a shameless plug if I didn’t tell you my next gig is in Cabo San Lucas, where I’ll peruse the Cabo Wabo, interview Sammy Hagar and probably end up in his tequila factory. Seriously, I’m gonna ask him if he still can’t drive 55, and if not, is it because 55 is too fast for him now?
UPDATE: Sammy was NOT at the Cabo Wabo when I got there. Note to self: call ahead, dumbass.