The
Okay, some basic information.
Now get out your notebooks and pay attention.
At 10:37 a.m., in the state of New York, in the city of New York, in the borough of Manhattan, in a hospital, in a room, from my mother, I was born. I was the only child in our family at the time, and we all moved to a small apartment at 785 West End Avenue. We lived there for nary one year before my mother exclaimed, "We don't want to raise a child in New York City!" So my parents argued about it and decided that there were two options. One, leave me stranded in New York City, and let me raise myself, or two, move to Maine. Guess which happened.
So we moved to some odd apartment in Waterville, Maine. Stayed there six months. Rats infested the walls, scorpions filled the sink. This was not a good place to live. We thought for a bit about moving back to New York. At least the scorpions live outside there. But no. We found a cute little house at 6 Middle Street. It was yellow. Or white. I don't know. And it had a porch, which is more than I can say for where my parents live now. And more than I can say for where I live now. Some time went by, and in July of '75, a small creature invaded my personal space. Her name was Stephanie, and she is, so I am told, my sister.
The years went by so fast. I don't remember a thing. But sometime in 1977, in early February, *poof* another kid appeared. This one was Alison. Over time, I learned to accept her as yet another sister. We were a happy little family. One mom, one dad, one boy, two girls. We got a few cats later. Their names were Tinker, Evers and Chance (named after the famous double-play combo of the 50s).
So we moved to Portland, Maine in 1979. I started first grade. The school I was at blew goats. So my father pulled me out, tossed me into a different school called Waynflete. I was there for twelve years. That's a long time for one school. That's a long time for anything. Ah, the old days. But then I graduated from Waynflete with no regrets, and moved onto bigger and better things, like, um... well, uh, there must have been something. If not, at least I can say that I attended college.
I graduated from Wesleyan University, Class of 1995, double-majoring in Music and Theater. I was involved in a plethora of activities at Wesleyan, most of all, The New Group, a co-ed a cappella singing ensemble, and my thesis, an original musical comedy entitled "e-love."
Since graduating, I've been all over the country, working primarily as a pianist. I moved to Somerville, Massachusetts in January 1996, hoping to set up quarters there for some time. I was living with my dear friend Adam Hirsch, and spending abundant amounts of time with a variety of other people in the area. After all, most Wesleyan students seem to move to Somerville, San Francisco or Brooklyn, NY after their time in school is finished.
However, I hadn't been in Boston but six months when I accepted the position of Assistant Musical Director for the National Tour of "Kiss of the Spider Woman." So I was packed up and moved out once again, travelling the countryside for nine months. Would I ever live in my own place again?
Yes. In November 1997, I moved to Brooklyn, New York, and settled into a new home there. Of course, after just three weeks in town, I went off to Germany for a month, but upon returning, I plan to stay in New York for some time. Rumor has it that I have finally bought the appropriate venetian blinds. I just haven't put them up yet.
As of this writing (Spring 2000), the blinds are still in the closet, I've worked in far too many more places to count, and my brain has reached its capacity for any kind of information. I'm amazed I survived Y2K.
Look for more fun in the summer... And stand clear of the closing doors.