I spent a lot of time in school, completing one phd program and getting kicked out of a second. But I don't have the--heart? spleen? stomach?--to be a professional academic. I like to be around them, though, and to help out when I can--sometimes I think of myself as a para-academic.

I think bread is magical, and I'm quite pleased to be able to turn out solid, decent loaves on a regular basis. I also think bicycles are magical, and a little mysterious, too (see Flann O'Brien, "The Third Policeman," for further elaboration of the mysterious angle; it has to do with the Atomic Theory, iron bicycle frames, and bad roads).

My level of gullibility may be assessed on the basis of the following fraud, which I not only fell for, but also transmitted to several others, who were gulled in turn by my own evangelical sincerity: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=1216161
I wonder what I would have done if I'd been listening to CBS on the evening of 30 October, 1938. Would I have graded the broadcast F for Fake?

I like reading aloud.

I have a hard time with faces--not in life, but in movies. If I see the same unfamiliar actor from two different angles, I'm liable to think I'm seeing two characters. A friend and I once watched a film about a married cop. The cop often wore sunglasses, but when he appeared on screen without them, I thought I was seeing a different character. When the cop was with his wife, sometimes he wore the sunglasses, sometimes not. To make sense of this, I constructed this elaborate, tangled, and somewhat rickety plot that involved the cop, the cop's wife, and the cop's wife's lover (who was also frequently seen in the company of the cop's best friend). When my friend and I compared notes afterwards, and my error was discovered, I claimed that I had actually seen a much more interesting film than she had. She laughed. Hooted, even.

Someday I'd like to raise a beagle.

Reading, writing, erasing. Biking to Salvation Army outlets in search of cozy sweaters and exotic cookware. Getting back into the habit of seeing films "live," in theaters. Grinding flour. Trying to get more music and less noise out of a guitar.

Fixing other people's prose. And occasionally their poetry. I'm also pretty good at walking long distances under a burden, without grumbling.

The rapid stride? The ancient spectacles? My one green eye? (No, I don't have a green eye; that belongs to the pale-faced lady under the Calvary Cross.)

Go to the children's section of the bookstore or library and tear through "The Happy Hocky Family": "I have a string! Do you have a string? I have a string!" Then head for the grown-up fiction, and (skipping the back-cover summary, so that you get the full dislocative effect) read the first few pages of Russell Hoban's "Riddley Walker"--out loud, if no one's around; it may help. Take a deep breath and read a page, any page, from the middle of "Absalom, Absalom!" and then scoot over to the M's for a sample of "Beloved." Over in the nonfiction, I'd point out Douglas Hofstadter's "Gödel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid," Elizabeth David's "English Bread and Yeast Cookery," and Guy Davenport's "The Geography of the Imagination."

I'm fascinated by the career of Orson Welles. Some films I would watch again: "Ed Wood," "The Spirit of the Beehive," an abbreviated form of "Berlin Alexanderplatz," Keaton's "The General," "White" and "Red," "Shadow of a Doubt."

My last big musical infatuation was with the British folk revival movement: Martin Carthy, June Tabor, Anne Briggs, Nic Jones, Dick Gaughan, &c. I used to know most of the words to most Elvis Costello songs, and I can still dredge up a lot of Aimee Mann. Periodically I listen to the late Beethoven quartets over and over and over.

I do most of my own cooking--simple things, like beans-and-rice and bread. I'm amazed by the differences between different varieties of beans. I like visiting Kupel's Bacon Bagel in Brookline (it's a kosher bakery, and it's really the Bake 'n' Bagel, but I love the accidental pun); I've tried to make bagels at home, but they look better than they taste, and the look (and a lot of the taste) is all in the poppy seeds anyway. I'm getting ready to experiment with homemade pretzels now, having invested in several pounds of food-grade lye in a potentially hazardous pursuit of authenticity.

Libraries, a bicycle, sturdy shoes, wool clothing, peanut butter, pickles.

The creation and persistence of biblical literature, and how to turn it to personal profit.

Warming up the tube amp, scanning the shelves at McIntyre and Moore, or working through another reissue in the Criterion Collection.

I enjoy moving around in the world, so I'm hoping to find people who like walking (or hiking, or bicycling) and conversation. If anything I've mentioned in the 'favorites' section makes you think, 'He should read/see/hear this,' let me know.