Olde Tyme Keith, or Fun With Linen and Wool Clothing

Oh yeah, this is me. I am apparently "whimsical". Upon searching through one of the blog sites using the name of my place of employment, a friend discovered someone had come to the museum and witnessed me playing this very banjo. I was described as "a whimsical banjo player". Huh.

It could be worse. School children routinely ask me if I am an elf, especially if it is cold and I am wearing a knit stocking cap in the winter. I tell them yes, I am an elf, and Santa will hear of their impudence. Bless their little hearts.

I am also described as looking remarkably like Chilly Willy the penguin when wearing the tail coat pictured here and the aforementioned knit stocking cap. That's Dr Chilly Willy to you (soon).

More pics later! Target CDs have been re-made and all is well.

smooch,
ckc

The Cast of Characters of My Life Part I, or Family Time

Hello my poppets!
I bring you today some of my favorite photos of my favorite family members who aren't in witness protection. These folks mean a lot to me.

Kristy, sister, confidante, she to whom I look for advice, best friend.

She was born to play this role, and she does it with a depth of character seldom seen on today's Stage of Life. One of my favorite humans on the planet, and one without whom I'd be lost. Witty, caring, brilliant. Mother, wife, sister, daughter. Also: loves any candy that will turn her tongue blue.




Jim, brother-in-law, token hetero male, he who will bring height back into the family line, all-around great guy.

Jim met Kristy the old-fashioned way: he brained her in a game of Ultimate Frisbee. Kristy has the scars to prove it. Father, brother, son. Funny, also brilliant, big heart. We're honored he's on the Cast!

Joey, nephew, cutest baby ever, star child.

At just over one year, Joey has wowed audiences wherever he goes. His ability to charm is unparalleled, and his hair is simply to die for. Son, nephew, grandbaby. Happy, amazed at life, loves to feed the dogs. Joey's sure to go far in his journey.

Dom, significant other, spomo, partner, bestest friend, my one and only.

Dom studied for this role for several years, pursuing a couple of dead ends before landing this gig. He doesn't dwell in the negative, instead choosing the road of optimism and humor. Funniest guy ever, wordsmith, teddy bear, hottie. Dom has my heart locked up somewhere, and the key never really existed at all.

Well gang, that wraps it up for family introductions. Friends are next, plus the pet you haven't met yet: Zeke Whippet. Stay tuned!

laters,

Keith

And now some pictures, or Cameras Are Fun

OK, so some of you (hi Kristy!) are expecting images of this weekend's festivities: concert, hell in car with parental units, joy of Kristy's dissertation defense, et al. When I popped the Target photo CDs into the drive THEY WERE BLANK! I have the prints, but alas, cannot share them digitally. Instead here are images of my man and our cat. By "cat" I mean "demon who allows himself the shape of a cat, roughly".

Aren't they the best? Sometimes the cat is naughty and must be hosed down. Behold:

Shortly after these pictures were taken Dom was tragically eaten by his kitten. Cats have very strong opinions about water, apparently. For Dom's birthday, as a matter of fact, I made a photo-storybook about our pets' proclivities for violence. It starred two Playmobil figures bearing striking resemblances to our persons, our pets, and an unassuming gay yard boy. I made that last part up, but it SHOULD have been about the unassuming gay yard boy. Because we have a real one, and I'm not even kidding. We call him "The Yard Fairy" with as much Christian affection as we can muster. Seriously, a gay yard guy? In Jesus-town, Indiana? WTF?

I would love to share more photos with you, dear reader, but Target Photo Thingey has just gone down (to use Dom's phrase) "like a Thai whore at a truck stop". Tomorrow: images of the Cutest Baby Ever and the Doctors Crooks.

Kisses,

Keith

Why I'm Happy I Don't Have To Go To Jail, or The Evil Scientist Named Mac

So this weekend I had the divine pleasure of attending my sister's PhD dissertation presentation. It was sensational, of course. I understood only about half of it, but still. I could tell on account of the other people in the room. The other Scientists, and stuff. Then she went off to two hours of grilling for the dreaded defense. It went well apparently, since she passed. Then there was champagne, and cookies, and unicorns in a parade, and I got to maim her advisor. Oh wait. No, that didn't happen 'cept in my head. Her advisor is, to put it politely, a giant throbbing prick. As a matter of fact my dear sister fears her one-year-old son's first words might be something to that effect. This "advisor" has made her life for the last 8 years not unlike a barium enema: it has to be done, it's cold, and the nurse's hands feel like 120 grit sandpaper, but when it's over you've never felt better in your life. Well, almost just like that anyway.

I was afeared I'd have to put on black grease paint and don my ninja black to go slash his tires. Problem: I don't actually own ninja blacks, so I'd have to use one of my tuxes. Fortunately this was not necessary as he passed my sister on the defense. If not you'd be hearing about in the papers, under the headline BROTHER STRIKES, KILLS SCIENTIST WITH BAROQUE BASSOON. ALTHOUGH -sorry- Although that then dangles a participle and it sounds like he had the bassoon not me. You get the drift though.

Crowning the stress of the weekend was the horror I'd sworn I'd never again endure. You all know it, and fear it:

Car Trip With The Parents.

I'm breaking into a sweat just typing it. I had a concert in Atlanta and they attended. Then we all three piled into the Dadmobile and drove SEVEN HOURS to Raleigh. But we stopped for the night somewhere near Charlotte. I damn near had to stay in their hotel room, but as I had devolved and had begun drooling and singing Tibetan Buddhist chant (throat singing!) my father wisely got me my own room.

The driving the next day was, frankly, not unlike a roller coaster. Dad gets periously close to the car in front of us, we scream, its all over. He begins coughing to the point of almost passing out, but refuses REFUSES to pull over and let me drive. Better dead than to have to sit in the back seat, apparently. Which of us, I wonder, gets the dubious pleasure of stealing his car keys when he finally can no longer locomote via automobile? Not it! I nominate the nephew, since he's cute and unassuming. I'm reasonably sure dad wouldn't do to him what he threatened to do to me if I tried to take the keys. I'll recommend the nephew take a can of mace just to be safe.

In other news, the cat has yet to dislodge what must be a terrier-sized hairball in his alimentary tract. What a pleasant noise he makes trying to cough it up! I'm sure the Great Almighty, in His Infinite Wisdom, thought to Himself "Hey, I'll make cats kinda cute but evil. They'll purr sweetly, but when copulating I'll make them so they sound like..... well...ummm.....cats in heat. Then for good measure they need to make a disturbing hacking sound when dislodging terrier-sized hairballs. Perfect!" At least he's learned to clean his hiney.

The cat, not the Great I Am. Seriously.

This ends my first blog. Ite, missa est.

kisses,
Keith

Hey Look! I Have a Computer Thingey!

It was bound to happen! I mean, generally, I'm about 5 years behind in the whole technology thingamabob. So now that I have the computernet at home, I'll give this the old college try. And stuff.