May I please start again?

This life, I mean.

Please?

Not the whole thing, just since about 1978 or so. I wouldn't change much, just kind of smooth it out a bit. Grab a few of those embarrassing moments, roll in a few misdirected life decisions, ball 'em up, toss 'em down the trash chute. You know, the usual? Try it again.

No. I see. "The Moving Finger writes, and having writ, moves on." Yes, the point is clear. I'll move along. It's time, anyway. I have to finish sweeping these cobblestones by nightfall. Plus, your horse is urinating on my sandals.

As they say, such is Fate.

Hmm? Oh, I said "I wish you much success, sir Fate". Yes. Much success to you indeed, and I hope to see you again in several dozen years. No, don't answer that, sir. Yes. To you too. Good day.

Sir Fate. Sir Fate indeed. Surfeit of misdeeds, surfeit of regrets. Ah, well.

Oh? Hello? Who's this? Hello. Hello, reader. Have you been listening long? Welcome. Welcome indeed. Let me quick clean up this sidewalk for you. Here. Reader. Stay. Let me show you a bit around. It's late, but I see you're tired. Well, it's not much right now, but I'll show you around. Here. As you can see, you're standing in an ancient street, along which you've walked some distance in your ethereal journey towards greater knowledge. Do you recognize this place? Have you been here before? It seems the dogs have accepted you already. They don't do so often.

I see with no small sense of wonder that you've undertaken this journey while sitting in a room, pressing keys and looking at a screen of light. Surely I had not expected you for weeks to come. Ah, the pace of alchemy is startling even to myself!

Here. Let me show you briefly. I am cleaning still, yet much of the future can be seen even now, around you. Look. I'll tell you what you'll see here. You're standing in the midst of a loosely connected scattering of electro-pages, which lay around this cobblestone walk like broken shards of cyber-glass. As you follow the links from one to the next, reading the dim etchings on each, you may, if it's of particular interest to you to do so, discover one or two clues about the site's owner. One or two only.

You seek enlightenment, you crave answers. You've traveled far to arrive here, having heard rumors of great wisdom.

A reflection of light off the broken glass, a curious illuminate which you perhaps mistook for a far-away star, has perhaps led you to this spot. Your anticipation is great. Yet I'm sorry to say, most of what you'll find here will appear discouragingly banal. This I can assure you. However I beseech you, do not be alarmed!, for in its banality lies its greatest charm.

And like those old rundown stores often found beside expressways of your day, within which can sometimes be found rare curiosities seldom discovered in your sterile "mini-marts", so I'm hopeful that this site--this artless and unsophisticated wayside I'm renovating here along this dusty lane--may one day house one or two bits of humor and interest for even the most jaded and weary web traveler. With luck, good glue and polish will fix this broken cyber-glass, and after it's done you won't recognize the place. Wisdom? Look elsewhere, for the architect here is unschooled; his tools are poor. He will not deign, when finished, to call his structure art. But rest assured when I am finished it'll be open 24 hours, and if you're looking for some crusty french bread at three in the morning to go with that moldy swiss you've brought up from your cellar, you just might find what you're looking for.

So look, traveler, and welcome. Come back again. And you can just push Sheba off of your leg, that's a good dog.

Enjoy your stay, and best wishes in your search. Fate has passed this way only recently, so you are safe here. For the time being.

The Cobblestone Gallery (or, My Life in Pictures)

(Actually this is a rendering of my last apartment, but as this piece represents the concept of "apartment" rather than any specific apartment per se, it should suffice for the purpose of this collection)

(Actually, I've leapt into a sabbatical of several months, during which time I hope to improve my appreciation for smelling the roses, and so I no longer qualify, at least for the time being, as an employed marketing geek...the work above, then, should actually represent the concept of "job" rather than any specific job per se.)

(Actually, I'm still recovering from a shoulder injury, so I've been a couch potato for the past too-many months. I am, thank you for the concern, hitting the ball again, but not too often. This piece, however, represents the concept of "fun" rather than any specific fun per se, though it should suffice for the purpose of this collection)

Otherwise, I do have some links and stuff that may entertain you a bit more thoroughly.

Thanks for visiting...!

jimg@servtech.com

Last modified 2/1/97