I am not one for self-description. Unfortunately for me, that one sentence does not fulfill the requirements of "a couple paragraphs", so I must keep on keeping on. Writing.

In summary: I am a kind of normal guy. I went to school and finished eventually. I have a nice family. I have good friends. I have a car that I drive too much. I eat more junk food than I ought. I think too much music, and sing too much in private. I make horrible jokes. So horrible, in fact, that some dispute the fact that they are actually "jokes". I am not deterred by this disputation. Because my jokes are awesome. Well, really, the median and mode of my jokes are "horrible", but the mean is "awesome".

What else? I like taking the long route. I don't care particularly if a word is not a real word, because I believe in evolution, even linguistic evolution. I enjoy trivia and the suchlike. I do my best to control my competitive nature when it would be counterproductive.

And now I've fulfilled my requirement, and I'm done. Done.

Besides whiling away the hours on the interwebs? I'm actually surviving as a professional musician. It rocks. As do I. Even when I'm accompanying the local middle school choirs. I also play in a few bands, teach a few lessons, and live VERY CHEAPLY.

Disguising good guesses as knowledge, misinterpreting romantic overtures, and analyzing harmonic structures.

They never tell me, though I bet that these days it's my shaggy hair. (It is a tad longer than in any of my photos so far, though not long enough that I have to tie it back – I never let it go that far.)

I am also frequently described as "a nice, young man". (Predictably, I'm popular with little old ladies.)

Out of all those, "music" is my favorite, closely followed by "foods", then "movies", then "books". I still like "books". It's just my least favorite of the four. But I like it way better than, say, "racism", or "razorwire underwear".

Things in those categories that I like include Paul Simon, burritos, West Side Story, Wilco, The Once and Future King, water, The Flaming Lips, The Unbearable Lightness of Being, The Jerk, Charles Ives, This Is Spinal Tap, stir-fried things, Foundation, Cat Stevens, Flatland, The Truman Show, Radiohead, and cereal.

The index finger on my left hand, my right thumb, my left thumb, my left middle finger, my right pinkie, and my right index finger. My left pinkie can go to hell.

Humor. Music. Philosophy. Greater meaning. Chicks. But mostly what on earth I should do with myself (which encompasses most of that other stuff).

Wishing I were doing something more exciting than conjugating the subjunctive correctly, or probably gigging.

I like some Backstreet Boys songs. Wait, private isn't the same as embarrassing, is it? Well, there's a little peek into my psyche.

... you're interested in a return message, a possible overture to an intriguing new relationship, and wordplay.