I was:

· Born in Princeton, New Jersey—the selfsame city in which Einstein died. Coincidence? Probably.

· Raised in Kendall Park, New Jersey, until the parents had the indecency to interrupt my idyllic childhood with their annoying little marital woes.

· Given a big dose of reality in South Plainfield, New Jersey, while living with my at-first-separated-and-eventually-divorced mother: While not a cesspool, the town's not exactly a swimming pool, either.

· Immersed in a brief, mostly internal Rebel without a Cause/Clause/Clue period while living with the remarried old man in Bridgewater, New Jersey.

· Told my options were limited by that same old man, and thus enlisted in the Air Force.

· A ne’er-do-well during my stint, and got out as soon as was feasible without spending time breaking big rocks into little ones. And yes, the discharge was honorable: I wasn't that bad an airman.

· Maxima cum laude at Helena, Montana’s Carroll College, in a discipline I have since abandoned for the same reason given by Aquinas.

· Until recently, gainfully employed at a prominent production facility in Northern New Jersey, surrounded by an eclectic amalgam of humanity—as in, “Oh, the humanity!” [Currently, I am reclaiming some of the damned unemployment insurance New Jersey and Pennsylvania have been siphoning from my paycheck for years.]

I am:

· Married to the saintly Maria Gabriella Pallini (called “Pazzini,” for “crazy ones,” by their relatives), who puts up with a lot, while dishing out almost as much.

· A homeowner, when ten years ago I couldn’t even envision owning a toaster.

· On the housekeeping staff of my five feline overlords (and people wonder why Felisians and Tzenkethi are so prominent in my prose).

· Entirely too heavy, but contemplating a diet—even as I contemplate another serving of dessert.

I will:

· Get back to you.