Bio
His name is actually Scott Palmer and he lives in Boston. Now you sort of know him.
The Short version:
- Born: Yes
- Eyes: Two
- Hair: Some
The Much Longer Version
Okay…although I’ve never had to eat my own legs to survive, the story is marginally interesting.
I was born because my parents had sex. They had sex because we weren’t around to prevent them having sex. They had sex because they loved each other. We knew they loved each other because our house was small. They also loved us, but thankfully in a very different way.
I said “we” because I have an older brother. I’ll call him Rob because that’s his name. We kept busy with all sorts of things: sports, riding bikes, falling out of trees, spitting in each others faces, playing with mercury from dads’ lab and of course, the outside underwear winter endurance testing. Even a friendly game of catch turned in to a dropped ball, an insult, chase around the house and an of course, an ass beating. We love each other still.
With a strict diet of chicken nuggets, Twizzlers and yellow number five, I had plenty of energy for hobbies and activities. Like many young boys (and some grown men) life was dominated by BMX bikes, sports, and dirt. I mastered the art of playing the trumpet poorly, having OCD and tying my shoes unnecessarily tight. Played some soccer, a whole bunch of pick up football and was by far, the worst third baseman my high school team has ever seen.
Education?
My young manure-like brain was molded early by lessons learned from TJ Hooker, Bo and Luke Duke and the A-Team. In elementary school, when I wasn’t busy playing kickball or trying to hump the jungle gym, I was combining my love of getting extra math help with the battle to not feel like a complete moron. Middle school saw some more of the same, trying hard, more sports and getting some more extra help, this time in reading. I am now able to add perfectly the number of times I am not able to read something correctly. That’s two of the fundamentals. By reading this, you pretty much know how I fared with the third.
With high school, grades started out okay but changed drastically during my sophomore year with the discovery of alcohol, more girls and a whole lot less paying attention. It also seemed I enjoyed the junior class so much I almost stayed to go through their senior year. Fortunately, I enjoyed my own class slightly more and graduated. With SAT’s like my current credit score and grades about half way down the alphabet I graduated valedictorian (of the lower 46% of my class). Four different colleges and universities later, I have an Associates Degree in something I was able to use a little and a Bachelors Degree no one could ever use. I am however, able to use my education to not have $132.57 in my bank account every month.
As for love, sex and relationships, it ran the gamut. Like any young male born before the internet porn bonanza, my first relationship involved a swimsuit issue and as much free time I could muster. Since then all I will say is I have liked, been liked, have loved and been loved by some awesome people. Out of respect for all of them (and whomever they happen to be sleeping with now), I will pretty much leave it at that.
I have lived in four different states, traveled to a bunch more and driven across all 424 spirit-crushing miles of Kansas. I’ve slept on beaches in New England, under stars in UTAH, the belly of a tall ship, the head of a trail and the foot of mountains: on a best friend’s couch for three months, a newspaper tube for an hour and in one unlucky shrub in Worcester Massachusetts.
As for jobs, I have done all sorts of things: sandwich maker, gas pumper, dishwasher, security guy, camp counselor, firefighter, EMT, 911 dispatcher and EMS helicopter dispatcher, communications manager, photographer and waiter (where I believe some customers are still waiting for bread). For three years I could have been found behind a bar ducking conversations, giving solicited advice to deaf ears and forgetting how to make good drinks. Now I live in Boston and cater events I would probably never be invited to at locations I will probably never be able to afford.
So for what adds up to twenty three (and sometimes feels like a hundred), I have been in a sorts of roles, with all sorts of responsibilities and in sorts of organizational structures. I have forgotten most of what I was supposed to have learned, have started more projects than I have ever finished and hopefully gave at least as much as I got out of each of them (remember, I am not good at math so that I wouldn’t even know how to calculate that).