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Friday, November 11, 2005 Days Go By Tine has been cleaning out the desk in the dining room this week. We've had been using it as a catch all since the dawn of time. It was the type of desk that looked like a dresser with a slanted top when closed up. The top would fold down to reveal a writing area and a mass of cubbyholes. The bottom drawers were busted, so it was relegated to stuffing mail and other flotsam that we didn't know what to do with immediately. But it was taking up space and that's a commodity in my house, so she started cleaning it out so we could dump it. But if you've ever amassed a giant assload of crap that you didn't right away know how to deal with, it's a bit like going on an archeological dig when you finally have to go through it. We found awards the kids had gotten, tons of old statements and bills. Birthday cards, old, undeveloped film, coins --we found some silver dollars from the Bicentennial-- video tapes, art projects, and pictures. Like this one. This has to be around 1992 or 1993 a few years before I met Tine. I'm guessing that Andrea took it. It's clearly in Maine and it's about as hip as I'll ever be. The funky thing is that we were both stunned to see it. I mean, there's no way I actually ever look like this, did I?!?  What else is cool, is that the lighting is right to capture the images within the glasses themselves. It's not perfect, but I took a high-res scan of the pic and blew up the lens.   You can clearly make out Leebone and LisaB on the right. I know that's Bill on the left as well, but he's harder to see. Those were some good days. Probably some of the best summers I spent in Maine. The cabin was still in prime shape. We'd buy a case of beer and just spend Friday to Sunday drinking, swimming and sleeping. Carefree living at its best. Man, I would love to be in my 20s again. posted by Evil Wayne | 10:01 AM 3 comments 3 Comments:
This blows my mind. I keep looking at the picture, but I cannot for the life of me make the connection. I mean, I simply cannot see that it's you. Maybe if your eyes were visible I might be able to extrapolate back and see the Wayne *I* know in that picture. More likely I'm content to assume that you saw a picture of a guy you found attractive in a man-on-man-themed magazine, cut it out, and decided to claim that it's you.
By
If you look to the top of my forehead, above my left eye, right at the hairline, you can see the very edge of the scar I have there.
By
Yea. I don't see it either. I seem to recall another picture of you that I totally didn't recognize. |
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