What can I say about my past, for biographies should be exciting and filled with the wonder that encourages one to explore the written word as Hillary explored Everest or Livingston explored Africa. But, alas, you are doomed to disappointment for I, as my family before me, have led a dull and completely normal life.
My father was born in a railroad car within sight of the Superstition Mountains. As a child, when he could escape the life of the West and its duties, my father explored these mountains seeking the same gold that had been found by the Dutchman. At the tender age of fifteen, my father lied about his age to escape the overly romantic ranch-life of a cowboy and enlisted in the Marines, carrying a flame-thrower across the Pacific Theater, then later Korea, before he settled down to the equally dull life of an Air Force police officer in such locales as Vietnam and Arabia.
His father was the first white-man born in Northern Arizona and worked as a telegrapher, a horse-drawn supply wagon driver to Jerome and, of course, a cowboy.
His father was a Norwegian pirate upon the Barbary Coast, eventually seeking the safety of Arizona, believing that the US Navy would not chase him that far inland. And so traded the cutlass for lariat and became the owner of the oldest working ranch in the West, a ranch whose size increased with his entry into the Mormon Lake sheep wars and a major character in one of Zane Gray’s western novels.
My mother's life was equally dull, arriving as an illegal immigrant from Ireland in 1925. Her mother was Irish Nobility of Claire and was descended from the Great High King, Brian Boru. She married into Irish Nobility from Antrim causing her children to argue between the Orange and the Green. Being good Catholics, they gave half their wealth and half their children to the Church and supported the IRA with funds and sons back when these heroes were Freedom Fighters seeking to form a Republic free from British rule.
With this background, I grew up not only upon Arizona Ranches, but also on Eastern Farms. My fondest memories, however, were growing up in Okinawa, searching among the post-war ordinance that still littered the jungle and discovering two Cryptids, a giant centipede and a supposedly extinct salamander. And when time allowed, I became politically active, fighting for and winning various civil rights for oppressed minorities on both a state and federal level.
And so I grew up, living a normal and dull life, studying Karate, Kung-Fu, Kendo, Fencing and Ninjitsu. I worked as a farmer and cowboy when necessity called, exploring the jungles and deserts when possible and seeking the crash site of that famous incident in Roswell, New Mexico when desired.
I eventually achieved my Degree from a well-known institute of learning in the field of Psychology and Sociology but left academia shortly before achieving my Masters in Anthropology, choosing to marry, enlist and follow my father's footsteps. However, as he chose the life of action, I chose the dull life of a Construction Engineer satisfying myself with building a school in Panama for Indians, repairing the homes of the unfortunates on a leper colony, building a hospital in Belize, a fire station for 16-year-old Apache smoke-jumpers in New Mexico, an office for the Red Cross in Arabia and the like. Not particularly exciting but satisfying on a spiritual level for my military career was based upon making people's lives better. And exploring the forbidden areas of these and other nations taught me that learning to say "please" and "thank you" in the local dialect and a polite attitude saved me much trouble, my Martial Arts training filling in on those rare occasions when courtesy failed.
And so, 28 years later, after leaking blood upon the soil of nations most Americans cannot find on a map, I felt it time to retire when my beliefs that every nation possessed the right of self-determination countered the actions of America.
So, I continue my dull life of retirement working in the Justice system, teaching Witchcraft, paddling kayaks and running the occasional river race, writing, Geocaching, martial arts, rebuilding my sailboat, building 'toys' for my former girl-friend, who was a professional Dominatrix, seeking a future Mrs who can bake a decent pizza and, of course, writing, having won the prestigious Georgian Award in 1982, but selling nothing since, though I do have a reputation for my papers on Martian Cartography.
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