December 31, 2006

354/365, Anne

Anne was the boss's wife, but didn't want to be treated any differently. Unless there was something she thought should be done differently, in which case she'd get her husband's okay to have it changed, and let you know afterwards.

Posted by dwaber at 01:51 PM

December 30, 2006

353/365, Scott

Scott went by the nickname Zippy in college. As a party wound down, someone asked, "Zippy, tell us the nastiest girl you ever slept with." He said, "Yeeeesh, I wouldn't tell you guys the third nastiest I ever slept with."

Posted by dwaber at 03:25 PM

December 29, 2006

352/365, Dan

Dan was born the day after me, had red hair like me, wore glasses like mine, was about the same height, same build, same sense of humor, same level of competitiveness, which led to him breaking my glasses six times.

Posted by dwaber at 01:31 PM

December 28, 2006

351/365, Nancy

Nancy has read one of her poems a little too often, and the rest of her poems not near enough for my liking. Always impeccably correct, but still, there's no mistaking the presence of the all grown up little girl.

Posted by dwaber at 01:40 PM

December 27, 2006

350/365, Judy

Judy gave me a Hot Rod magazine once. I was baffled and set it aside for years. Cleaning house for a move I flipped through it. There she was, in a Stars & Stripes bikini, a finalist flanking the contest winner.

Posted by dwaber at 01:46 PM

December 26, 2006

349/365, Kelly

Kelly was the reason I went to California in the first place, and the reason I left. It was my own stupid fault and took until helping her pick her wedding dress for me to realize how misguided I was.

Posted by dwaber at 02:40 PM

December 25, 2006

348/365, Brian

Brian drank for free using the kitty game. Hey everybody, let's all kick in $20, make a kitty for the bartender. Kitty's getting low, let's kick in. Last man standing tips big, eats at Denny's, and recovers his original $20.

Posted by dwaber at 02:36 PM

December 24, 2006

347/365, Susan

Susan had one chance to make the right pitch to the right guy at the right time and she blew it by choosing a deception over an honesty. Though I'm not sure her employers would have agreed to the honesty.

Posted by dwaber at 02:29 PM

December 23, 2006

346/365, Tom

Tom is just trying to make a living, stuck in a redneck town where he pretends to be dumber than he is in order to just get along. There's an artist in him that the money maker won't let out.

Posted by dwaber at 02:18 PM

December 22, 2006

345/365, Tom

Tom doesn't have a baby face, but he does have one of those faces where you can tell exactly what he looked like as a child. The cigar would have been as apt a prop then as it is today.

Posted by dwaber at 01:22 PM

December 21, 2006

344/365, George

George is an atheist who lit a candle in church for Mary every week for a year after she died. Sometimes he read poems, sometimes he told stories, sometimes he cried, sometimes he just said, "And this is for Mary."

Posted by dwaber at 01:57 PM

December 20, 2006

343/365, Mark

Mark was into Lynrd Skynrd before anyone else was into any kind of music. A transplanted Alabama boy who wore Crimson Tide tee shirts and had Confederate flag stickers on his notebooks when I first met him in fourth grade.

Posted by dwaber at 12:57 PM

December 19, 2006

342/365, Michael

Micheal still has the eyes of a mischievous eight year old who is whipsmart and knows he can get away with flaunting it because he's got an irresistibly winning smile to get him out of whatever trouble it might cause.

Posted by dwaber at 01:52 PM

December 18, 2006

341/365, Bruce

Bruce was the junior high teacher all the girls were in love with. It took most of them until the twenty year reunion to realize that they were the wrong sex to have had any chance at all with him.

Posted by dwaber at 12:19 PM

December 17, 2006

340/365, Gary

Gary used to work as a wrecker driver, and has the photo album handy to prove it. Want to see the pictures of the car wrecks, brain pans, blood, guts, decapitation, and other assorted limb loss? He thinks you do.

Posted by dwaber at 01:01 PM

December 16, 2006

339/365, Chris

Chris wandered into the room where we'd been playing the new game Trivial Pursuit a week steady, said, "What's this?" Sat down, rolled the dice, and never missed a question until he'd won. He got up, said, "Fun!" and left.

Posted by dwaber at 12:53 PM

December 15, 2006

338/365, Spring

Spring was a waitress at the restaurant of changing names. The first to buy me a blank book for writing, she inscribed it: "The finest parchment and the loveliest silk are the only fitting place for the beauty you create."

Posted by dwaber at 01:50 PM

December 14, 2006

337/365, Linda

Linda was the smartest girl in gradeschool and growth spurt gawkily athletic. Her face had a spritz of birthmarks, her hair was so thick it could only be worn short, she talked as fast as not too fast can be.

Posted by dwaber at 01:41 PM

December 13, 2006

336/365, Tim

Tim was a natural performer whose body awareness allowed him to create, down to the slightest gesture, characters easy to suspend disbelief with. After his suicide the line into the funeral parlor stretched out into the street for disbelieving blocks.

Posted by dwaber at 01:54 PM

December 12, 2006

335/365, Tom

Tom has done a lot of good, to be sure, and his charisma played no small part--but I always wonder how much more good he might have done if the seed of humility had ever taken root in him.

Posted by dwaber at 12:43 PM

December 11, 2006

334/365, Charlie

Charlie was overqualified for the job, but, just looking to pick up some vacation money until his full pension at his old job kicked in. His breath became toxic when he got stressed, it was my job to tell him.

Posted by dwaber at 01:25 PM

December 10, 2006

333/365, Maureen

Maureen spends her time making things happen (poems, fictions, historical plays, radio plays, documentary films), and thus she has no time at all to be one of those people who complain that nothing ever happens. A bumble bee of busyness.

Posted by dwaber at 01:26 PM

December 09, 2006

332/365, John

John was the quiet but cute boy in gradeschool who became the successful high school entrepreneur which gave him the seed money to finally do what he wanted to do all along. Vision, dedication, success, all by his early twenties.

Posted by dwaber at 02:20 PM

December 08, 2006

331/365, Don

Don will always be, to me, the metallic tang scent of welding in his brother's garage as they built open wheel dirt track race cars, and the wild slide around the oval under the lights on a perfect summer night.

Posted by dwaber at 02:10 PM

December 07, 2006

330/365, John

John was just gullible enough that he was fun to prank. When a salesman came to visit him, we told the guy John was "just through that door, but, be sure to really speak up, he's awfully hard of hearing."

Posted by dwaber at 05:15 PM

December 06, 2006

329/365, Steve

Steve drove a tricked out metallic gold Trans Am with the hood-sized Firebird decal, leather seats, and moon roof t-tops. His license plate read "DRUNK 2". His idea of constructive criticism was, "This tastes like shit, fix it."

Posted by dwaber at 01:34 PM

December 05, 2006

328/365, Dan

Dan had this curious way of holding his cigarette. Make the "OK" sign with your right hand. Picture a cigarette with filter between thumb and forefinger, lit end facing you. Turn your hand clockwise until the lit end is away.

Posted by dwaber at 01:32 PM

December 04, 2006

327/365, Norm

Norm had a grant to teach Career Development, but the class was all about meditation and self-hypnosis. He said, "Mmmm, well, you know, I mean, you can't get a job if you don't know where your head's at, man."

Posted by dwaber at 01:35 PM

December 03, 2006

326/365, Mike

Mike is pretty good at bullshitting his way through most conversations about art by remaining appropriately aloof and cryptic, but if you stick with it and suss things out you find everything he says was said by someone else first.

Posted by dwaber at 06:58 PM

December 02, 2006

325/365, Dennis

Dennis is a self-made man who believes that being offensive is the best defense against an attack on his credentials (which no one really ever makes). Force of personality makes right, don't confuse the issue with those silly facts.

Posted by dwaber at 06:55 PM

December 01, 2006

324/365, Keith

Keith has a face for television, a voice for radio, the body of an olympic wrestler, a gift for forming the kind of surreal images that stick in the brain, and a style of delivery that crowds love to watch.

Posted by dwaber at 01:14 PM