61San Francisco, United States
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My self-summary
Let's open with my My Pledge for Truth in Advertising, folks; all of my shots indicate the date taken. I mean, it drives me nuts how common it seems to be for guys—usually older folks like me—to post a photo that is 5/10/15+ years out of date and pretend that it's current, like we're gonna hop into a time machine and look all pretty again. Get real.

Anyway, if you have a problem with someone who is actually happy about being 60 and thus feels no need to lie about age, you might as well stop reading now.

Still with me? Fine. Plop into a nice, comfy reading chair, you're going to need to settle in to make it all the way through this feature-length profile. Still, in the interest of saving a few folks a hell of a lot of time...


1) If you smoke, it ain't gonna happen. And I mean anything, at all, even just a tiny bit. Likewise, doing drugs you can't find at Walgreen's is another deal breaker. Thanks for playing, here's a year's supply of Turtlewax® as a parting gift. Buh bye.

2) I have cats. I will likely always have cats. Sometimes I'll also add a dog or two into the mix. If you are not critter-compatible, kindly take your accursed lint roller and move on to the next fur-free profile.

3) I hate porn. No joke, I really detest it. Now, I don't care if you watch it, just as long as (A) YOU deal with all the surplus dirty hand towels it generates, and (B) you don't expect ME to do anything more than sneer derisively at your naughty men grunting out incredibly cheesy dialogue--and badly at that.

There. That ought to have thinned out the crowd a wee bit.
OK, perhaps more than just a wee bit. The .003% of you that have made it this far, read on.


"Long walks on the beach at sunset"? "Nice candlelit dinners with a fine wine by a roaring fireplace"? Umm, no. Please parade such snoozeworthy banalities elsewhere.

"Discreet, straight-acting normal GWM looking for same. No drama or..."? Oh, puh-LEEZ! That kind of tripe is even worse than the brain-dead clichés.

"Riding shopping carts through the parking lot"? "Shooting a photo series on the gunk stuck beneath cafeteria tables"? "Froot Loops nachos"? Oh yeah, baby, NOW you've got my think-WAY-outside-the-box attention!

I snicker quietly at people who eat pizza with a fork. I chuckle softly at self-inflicted fashion victims. I laugh loudly at my own ridiculous behavior.

I often attend major film festivals, including Sundance and Frameline.

I'm (used to be) one of the regular commenters on a popular blog called Gizmodo. If you want to assess just how off-kilter I am before proceeding--a wise precaution--just (use your WayBack Machine and) look for a "star commenter" called "bosskev", red avatar. (Maybe someday I'll get back into Gizmodo?)

I work for Apple (as a Creative). I previously worked 20+ years for a university. As a curious byproduct, even as I have aged a bit (OK...a LOT), I have always been surrounded by a peer group of twentysomethings. The upshot of this is that I tend to flow seamlessly across several generational continuums. Indeed, about the only significant advantage a Baby Boomer has to me over a Gen X or Gen Y guy is that the Boomer is more likely to laugh at my '60s and '70s pop cultural references. All that said, as I am probably a lot older than many (most?) guys here, I am nonetheless NOT looking for some funky daddy/son role playing scenario. Ew. I AM looking for an equal partner irrespective of the birthdate.

Contrary to apparently popular opinion, I regard "Brokeback Mountain" as loathsome, self-hating crap. Discuss.

I'm a vegetarian. You're not? Cool. I only mention it in case you are a gourmet cook and have "issues" with my food choices. Please--you eat all the meat you want but pass me the broccoli.

My pets get normal names. Holly. Mikayla. Bill. Dorothy.

When I go and do a "Compare Profiles" here on OkCupid, it occasionally gives me über-bizarre statistical results. Like it just told me "bosskev is More Violent". WTF? I'm as big a pacifist as one can be! I even carry bugs out to the yard, fergawdzsake. Stupid crap like that makes me want to deck somebody.

I was once, ever so briefly, a professional bowler. Hey! Don't go mocking me, I'm sure you've got some skeletons in your closet as well.

I treasure my embarrassing moments. Be sure to ask me about the toilet paper streamers (yes, plural) in the airport terminal.
What I’m doing with my life
I write. I illustrate. I do design/photos/films. I love getting into absurd situations then giggling for hours. People watching is a hoot. I do ambush makeovers on unsuspecting photos. I often try to levitate dinnerware. I have lots of broken plates.

Previously a graphic artist, I'm now an indie filmmaker and photographer. I produced a movie for Barry Gifford, a well-known Hollywood screenwriter, e.g., Lost Highway, Wild at Heart, City of Ghosts. (Curious? Google "ball lightning gifford".) In 2006, I was chosen to attend the Sundance Independent Producers Conference in Utah (it was amazing!). I'm now writing a graphic novel in conjunction with a feature film.
I’m really good at

You may laugh now.
The first things people usually notice about me my brevity.

Again, you may laugh now.
Six things I could never do without
• My cameras (all of 'em)
• Toenail clippers
• Gravity (it's really more of a love/hate relationship)
• Cotton blankets
• Quarters for MUNI (and I despise the Clipper card!)
• And the big one...I can't imagine a home without small furry creatures running around underfoot. Walking out the front door without a strand of animal hair showing on your clothing somewhere just ain't right.
I spend a lot of time thinking about
...the blue windbreaker I lost when I was 12. Where is it now? Does it miss me? Did it at least find someone else to keep warm?
On a typical Friday night I am
...doing the same things I do any other nights of the week. Semi-retired, I only work two days a week so the concept of "weekend" kind of becomes irrelevant.
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
I was in the semi-finals--the very semi-finals, mind you--of the ping-pong tournament at the club and this ghastly thing happened. There was this really terrific volley and I stepped back to get this really terrific shot--and I stepped on the ping-pong ball! I just squashed it to bits. And then I ran to the closet of the game room to get another ping-pong ball--and the closet was locked! Imagine? We had to call the whole thing off! Well, it was ghastly. Well, it was just ghastly.*
You should message me if
YES, if:
• You can identify the reference regarding the aforementioned aborted ping-pong game.*
• You enjoy exploring the world on foot.
• You love studying architecture and interiors first-hand.
• You keep a camera (and I do NOT mean a cell phone) at the ready to allow for spontaneous creative binges.
• You agree that movie popcorn should be classified as a dinner entrée.
• You are George Clooney. All other priorities rescinded.
• You feel at one with the universe when a pet falls asleep sprawled across your lap (and then, even though your leg has fallen asleep, you won't move until the animal wakes up).
• You are a board certified psychologist who can cut me a deal on the lifelong psychotherapy I so obviously need.

NO, if:
• You think that when I wax nostalgic about "Polyester" that I am referring to a fabulous, easy-care fabric.
• You iron your Levi's (because, distressingly to you, they lack a fabulous, easy-care fabric).
• You would find it embarrassing to be with me at McDonald's when I order "a hamburger, hold the meat patty".
• You assume unquestioningly that "acting your age" is something people are supposed to do and you are confused that I might even suggest otherwise.
• Your profile does not have at least one big, clear and current photo of yourself including your face.
• You are not already clear on the differences between "a lot" (frequently or to a considerable degree), "allot" (to apportion), and "alot" (no such word).
• Your board certification in psychology was issued via mail order from the Cayman Islands--I've already got one of those diplomas, didn't help.

*Really Big Hint: Rosalind Russell
The two of us