1. I'm a writer (if you didn't guess that already... hmmm)
2. I'm an athlete - made my living at it in my youth (I still play at a high level and often, it's my therapy)
3. I'm not skinny. I'm stocky. Always have been. Always will be.
4. I have many awards to my credit and have been written about in major publications. I say this in no way to toot my own horn, but to explain the my reluctance to publish a too revealing photo of me. This is a brave new world of social media - and it scares me. I have no problem sharing a photo via email in private however.
5. Description: I have all my hair and it's mostly brown. I have blue eyes. I wish I could say that I have all my teeth but I have the ones that count, i.e. the ones you can see when I smile. I am very nice and, some think, nice looking.
6. More Description - I am a non-smoker and allergic to those who smoke. I am a non-drug user, always have been. I am a liberal. I often teach at the university level (guess that makes me a professor). I can speak knowledgably about baseball and Shakespeare - sometimes in the same sentence (as I believe I have just done.)
7. I am an animal lover and have never been without a pet companion.
UPDATE (for baseball fans only :) )
In re: the Shakespeare / baseball comment that seems to have garnered some interest, herewith a little exercise called Hamlet Bunts. Background: In baseball currently, there is a debate about what's called "shifts", i.e., if a left-handed batter has a statistical predilection for pulling the ball into right field, and rarely hits the ball the other way (to the left side) teams are now 'shifting the defense' by pulling the third baseman off the bag and positioning him in short right field in between 1st and 2nd base, thus leaving no one at third base. This is exclusively done with power hitters, many of whom have seen their batting averages plummet - what once were singles to right are now easy outs. Fans are calling for these power hitters to bunt down the third base line where no one is covering and 'beat the shift.' Other fans argue that, by bunting, you are essentially taking the bat out of the hands of your most dangerous hitter.
If Hamlet were a power hitter getting killed by the shift, this is what his soliloquy might look like. [THIS IS COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL AND ANY USE WITH EXPRESS PERMISSION IS PROHIBITED]
To bunt or not to bunt, that is the question.
Whether tis nobler in the game to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous shifts
Or to square up against a vacant third base
And, by laying one down, foil them. To bunt, to slap--
No, more -- and by a slapping we raise our average
And end the futility of ground outs
That shifts induce. Tis an on base percentage
Devoutly to be wished. To bunt, to gork
To miss and hit a pop up; aye, there's the rub,
For in attempts to bunt what outs may come
When we might have jacked a solo home run
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes calamity of beating the shift.
For who would hit a dying quail to third
A slap grounder, a roller in the dirt
A swinging dribbler that hugs the base line
When he himself might the difference make
With a mighty blast to right field? Who would
Singles hit 'stead of doubles and home runs
But that the dread of hitting into the shift,
The super frustrating defense against
Which no pull hitter succeeds, puzzles the will
And makes us rather take what the defense gives
Then see a hard hit double turned easy out
By a third baseman in shallow right field.
Thus, defensive shifts, make bunters of us all.