I am a retired broadcast journalist, writer, and teacher who bought my first motorcycle at age 66. Unlike the legions before me who “Live to ride, and ride to live,” I am cautiously and deliberately learning to ride, and riding to learn more about myself and my country and its people. If nature, nurture, and my genes permit it, I’d like to do the same in some other countries, as well.
In my first life I was a skier, a SCUBA diver, a small plane pilot, and a trans-Atlantic sailor. I have always been a reader of well-crafted escapist fiction. I enjoy good wines and quality Irish and Scots whiskies. I eat anything; I eat well; I over-eat often. And I believe every good meal should begin with a great martini.
I grew up an army brat at a time when it was a rewarding way to live and to learn a lot of things that would reveal their value in later years. More important, I was a lifelong Boy Scout– right up until the day I joined the navy at 17. And taken individually and collectively those two organizations were the most important influences in molding me as a man. My mother’s teachings and her own personal example were equally influential in shaping my integrity, my work ethic, and my pride.
After my four years of naval service I was a moderately unsuccessful college student. I was rescued from classroom embarrassment by an inspiring and rewarding career that overtook me. And– over time– it allowed me to discover my academic self and try again– earning a masters degree with honors. Eventually I would serve on the journalism faculty of a prestigious and respected university.
Religiously, I’m a freelancer. I long ago rejected fear, awe, and intimidation as sound inspirations for morality. Since then, my god(s) and I have enjoyed a mutually respectful relationship that is really no one else’s business.
I’ve lived in Europe for a total of five years and speak a bit of German, pretty good Italian, and a smattering of what the British call English.
The most beautiful things I’ve ever seen are a storm at sea and Michelangelo’s Pieta. The ugliest things I’ve ever seen were all manmade and were often brutally wielded by one person or group against another.
I unabashedly confess that my greatest love is not life, but living. I regret the decades I spent pursuing it as though it were a hobby. And my greatest fear is not death, but dying. I’ve been fortunate enough to see little of it, but what I’ve seen makes me dread the process far more than the outcome.
And finally, my single greatest joy is the effortless act of sharing. It’s my objective in this blog, my inspiration when I write, and my motivation as I teach. I think what I love most about sharing is that you can’t possibly do it alone.