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* Working for The Man.
* Parenting my two teenage daughters remotely, except when I see them every other weekend.
* Singing with my award-winning a cappella group.
* Involving myself in the local Burning Man community.
* Figuring out which prisons to visit next.
* Dragging my butt back to the gym on a regular basis (my theory: someone had a terrible nightmare about a never-ending staircase, woke up in a profuse sweat, and invented the StairMaster so we could all share the experience).

Whoa, that's a big guy (I assume).

This is kind of an odd thing to describe if you're not a person who wanders around asking people, "So, what did you first notice about me?" I'm not such a person.

I can say that if a woman has a great smile and/or beautiful eyes, I will certainly notice that about her right away. If a woman seems down-to-earth, open, and approachable, I will notice that also. And yes, I'm a guy, so physical attributes will never escape my notice.

But getting back to the topic of what *other people* notice, I'm told that one of the last things people often notice in person is my left hand, which you can see from the photos isn't exactly what one would expect that it should be. It has been that way since birth, and I usually tell people that it makes me lousy at playing saxophone or shortstop, but that I otherwise just do stuff and pretty much never think about it. On the plus side, while growing up, I could absolutely never understand how it was possible for some kids to get confused about which side was left and which was right.

Music: I am seriously all over the map with this one. No, really. I'm not a guy who tries to sound broad in my tastes by claiming that I listen to both rap AND hip hop. No, I'm talking everything from pop to jazz to show tunes to ambient to blues to zydeco to Dixieland (love Dixieland) to Celtic rock to soca to rai to various South African to Arabic French rap to... well, you get the picture. Putumayo World Music is my friend. But not classic opera; can't do classic opera. Special fondness for a cappella music.

Movies: Not a fan of horror movies. Saw Dawn of the Dead and Poltergeist when I was younger, and decided I was done with the genre. Big fan of sci fi and summer blockbusters. And yet, that climactic scene from A League of Their Own (you know the one) always gets to me in non-manly ways (did the younger one finally prevail, or did the older one sacrifice to give her a huge gift??).

Shows: Oh, you want to go to the theatre? I am absolutely there. Watching Lez Mis straight through feels like eating a whole delicious cheesecake in one sitting. Avenue Q was hilarious, as was Noises Off. Little Shop of Horrors never gets old (and I finally got to sing the voice of the plant onstage!). And "Master Harold...and the boys" may be the best drama ever written, just as The Foreigner may be the funniest comedy (tragedy that we lost Larry Shue). How can I score tickets to Book of Mormon?

Books: I was a voracious reader of mostly sci fi when I was a kid. These days, I spend so much time listening to All Things Considered, This American Life, Radiolab, Fresh Air, BBC World Service, etc., that I find myself with little time for pleasure reading. The little bookshelf I bought for my bedside is overflowing with books I've bought that are patiently awaiting their turn. That said, the last two I read were Fierce Conversations (techniques for effectively conducting difficult conversations) and Redshirts (junior officers on a starship realize they keep getting killed on away missions; hilarity ensues).

Half of them, I'll be sitting in a restaurant, frequently Mexican, with my two daughters after picking them up for a weekend visit (yes, I can cook, but there's the whole getting organized during the work week thing...). The other half? Maybe at the gym, maybe grocery shopping, maybe driving to Portland or somewhere else not too far, maybe... who knows?

If we both fall out of a boat, I will not likely be able to save you. 50/50 whether I'll even be able to save myself.

...the mood strikes you. After all, sending a message isn't a lifetime commitment.