Skip to main content

Flashback Friday



Everything is temporary.  Even Polaroids.  Especially Polaroids.  This picture was taken while in college and we seem to be at a hotel.  I haven't the foggiest where but it may have been a fraternity gathering somewhere.  Since I was an officer I might have been forced into it.  But I honestly don't know.  Fraternity conventions were in the summer and we all seem to be dressed for winter.  Oh well, everything is temporary, including memory.  

The back of the head is Russ Foust.  I haven't heard from him in a couple years and my emails don't reach him so if you see this, Rascal, write and tell me how you are.  From left is Dave Dixon, the Brain.  Tom "Sandbag" Sandersfeld and yours truly.  I wasn't known to wear socks and here you can tell.  I didn't really start wearing them until I ran into a dress code at the Mary Davis Home. I got by for a while spray painting my feet, but I was caught and ever since I have worn socks.  Everything is temporary. 

As you can clearly see the table is full of beer, and the I wonder who took this picture.  It is likely to remain a mystery.  Also in full display is the degradation of the picture itself.  The intevening decades have no tbeen kind and I fear another amount of time and this will fog into obscurity.  Everything is temporary.

Comments

  1. I know this isn't the clearest but when I first glanced at this picture, you look so much like Brendon. Do you think so?

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Flashback Friday

Class, Or Lack Thereof The Dwight Vice gravestone in Oquawka, Illinois. I bring this old chestnut out every so often just to remind me that class is classless.  Dwight Vice was killed in his home near Oquawka in 2001.  It was one of those things that can generate crime:  two guys thought Dwight had a lot of money stashed at home because of his pot-selling sideline to supplement his fishing job.   Not really one of those big drug deals gone-bad things.  Marijuana was, according to the trial, about the only stuff Dwight sold.   But these two guys barge into the house and killed Dwight and attempted to kill his 11 year old kid, Darryl, before they took off with what money they could find.   His son, now 23, was stabbed in the back and left for dead.  He survived and is wheelchair bound and has undergone several surgeries to repair his wounds.  He will be paralyzed for life.   None of this is pleasant.  Reading the f...

The Mary Davis Home - Part 2

None of these pictures were taken by me,  they came right from the MDH website.  I am posting these so that friends who have never seen inside where I worked can gain access.  After 27 years I have many stories, tales and acquaintances.  But, I wouldn't know how to express them appropriately in a few paragraphs.  I enjoyed 98% of my stay there and hope I made a difference in the lives of a fraction of the kids who entered.  The original MDH at this site was just the front part.  The large red-roofed area in back was added on in the 90's. This is the Jerry Carlton library.  It was unofficially named after one of the counselors who truly loved the place.   He passed away around 2002, I think.  Mr. Farber looks like he is explaining a few things to a client. The classroom. Activity area with the gym behind the windows. Another shot of the classroom. It was a little different area to teach since we had 2 classes and 2 teachers i...

Tuesday Tidbits On Wednesday

This week I will be heading up to the Cabin in the Woods.  I think I have come up with a long list of things to do and take care of.  As is usually the case, however, it won't take long till I miss the girls. It's kind of a Stockholm Syndrome in reverse, or circle.  My primary concern is Alfred and her substitute situation for the next few weeks before I head back for a Dr.'s appointment and do a little sitting to help Kenzie out.   But I suppose we'll all adjust and do nicely.  On my part I am looking forward to no diapers and some rec time.   ++++++++++ This is me when I am heading up to the Cabin In The Woods. ++++++++++ Oh yeah. ++++++++++ Poor Alfred.  It'll get easier, I swear. ++++++++++   One of my dreams is to find something like this or an old car tucked away in a barn somewhere.  That is the closest corollary we have nowadays for finding a buried treasure....