Just a quick anicqdote from my days working part time (2nd job) at Best Buy in the 90s.

If I there's anything that sums up my philosophy on writing, it's this:
Remember your name.
Do not lose hope - what you seek will be found.
Trust ghosts. Trust those that you have helped
to help you in their turn.
Trust dreams
Trust your heart, and trust your story.

It's from Neil Gaiman's poem "Instructions," which is about what you should do should you find yourself in a fairy tale. It was turned into a children's book, illustrated by Charles Vess, and I bought copies for my two nephews. As of Friday, I have these lines tattooed on my upper left arm.

Update: Pictures of the tattoos are here.

Over a couple of very dark beers, some very dark times.

This one was on Easter Sunday.

I have stories I want to tell -- more of that memoir, creative non-fiction stuff I write -- but for now, I just have the time and energy to write about moments I don't want to forget.

A word that is too many characters and not enough vowels.

I was fifteen years old, a tenth grader, when I finally stopped lying. I played basketball and tennis, and I'd grown too many inches too quickly, so I tripped over my feet. I was quiet and precocious and dealing with things at home that I had no capacity to deal with.

Friday was the 100-year anniversary of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire. I read a story once, by Michael Cunningham I believe, that was based in part on that fire or one very much like it. The images of women trapped behind locked fire doors, pushing to escape the flames, or holding hands and leaping to their death haunt me. I'm not sure why this disaster, among so many, fills me with such an intense sick dread. The disaster could've been avoided if common sense safety measures had been in place. The doors should have opened out instead of in. They should not have been locked to prevent unauthorized breaks. There should have been enough exits that women weren't crushed as they tried to escape the flames.

The response from companies to increased safety regulations was also sickeningly familiar -- these new regulations would cost too much money. They would force the prices of goods up to the point that they would destroy the economy. Surely, was the implicit message, these few lost lives (in the grand scheme of monocles and yachts for the company owners) were a worthwhile price to pay for cheap goods and increased profits.

It's all about the money.

I was trying to answer this poll question and looking back to five years ago.

So where was I?

Nothing much, though.

Reason: BAD PEOPLE.