Which one is cricket? I'm stumped!

Since crickets are known to frequently tuck their antennae behind their backs. Because of this, it's virtually impossible to tell which one of these insects is me!

This was taken in one of the redwood forests in California (not to be confused with the gulf stream waters, stay with me here). Someday I will get a nine month a year job, then I can just go bopping around each summer and see cool things like this dead, lifeless stump.

If you're obsessed with dead trees, you might want to check out the web page of lady grouper.

cricket basking in the light from alien spacecraft

HELP! My shirt is on fire! Well, that would explain why I've retained the color of fresh salmon. What's the deal with that?

If you're going to have your shirt catch fire, I'd recommend a happy flame with big red booties and a wicked grin on his face.

This was taken somewhere in southern California, about a year ago, so it's pretty current and stuff. So to all the people who have bitched and complained about my horridly out of date photo gallery, here you go. Have a pellet. Good boy.

 

cricket fleeing the state with illegitimate children

[Robert Stack voiceover]: This picture captures the fateful moment, as the now fugitive cricket packed up his car and his kids and fled to the hills of New Hampshire, never to be seen again. If you recognize anyone in this picture, put a stamp on a poptart and mail it to a P.O. Box in Burbank, CA that no one has opened in seven years.

cricket in the Cayman Islands at age 16

My three older brothers and I only manage to all get together twice in a decade. The last time was Christmas about 3 years ago, and before that, it was this trip to the Cayman Islands when I was 16. Not sure what I'm doing here, but I appear to be engaged in serious beckoning. I think this is the coolest I've ever looked without even trying. Anyone that knows me in person now knows that looking cool is my number one priority in life.
In the Cayman Islands, it is always between 80 and 90 degrees Fahrenheit. The only time it has been outside of that range was once about 75 years ago, during a hurricane, when the temperature dropped to the upper 70's. This is the first place I ever saw shooting stars (and lots of 'em).

I became a certified scuba diver earlier in the year in what was one of the most miserable experiences of my life. The course was absolutely grueling, and I was even in really good shape. Our 'checkout dive' was in a quarry in Wisconsin. Even with full wetsuit gear it was freezing cold and we had to use 5 foot long 'buddy ropes' since the visibility was almost nothing. Even using this rope, I could not see my instructor's yellow scuba tank five feet away. Diving in the Cayman Islands was vastly better, but since I have genetically miserable ears, I found it very difficult and almost not worth the effort.

Trying to start a fire at age 19

I never succeeded and ended up driving to Hardee's instead. This is taken somewhere on the Outer Banks of North Carolina during a windy and rainy night of camping, yippee. Not a promising start to a long road trip that took me all up the East Coast to Maine, through Ontario to Michigan, down through the Midwest to Texas, and then back home to North Carolina. Every time I tried to light a match, it extinguished at precisely 4 seconds before I actually struck it on the side of the box.
I took this trip with Jonathan, who was my best friend at the time. Maybe I'll put a picture of him up at some point as long as everyone promises not to say: 'Is that a girl?' I'd love to take a trip like that again someday, send e-mail if you're interested!

cricket sporting banana sticker at age 21

This picture illustrates the not surprising fact that I am amused easily. Buy me a car for my birthday, I might thank you, give me a banana sticker and I will bubble over with excitement. I might even kiss you gently without even a hint of passion. This picture is taken close to my Mom's house. One of the little known benefits of befriending this particular cricket is that you can go to visit his Mom on a nifty ten acre plot of land in the mountains of North Carolina.
I'm also wearing what I used to call my 'fish shirt' which has since turned into swiss cheese. I own no articles of clothing without at least one hole or a mysterious stain somewhere on it. I am currently accepting donations.

Me hi-fiving giant jaggy icon hand

Legend has it that there was once was a great nation that revolutionized the world of computers and how we interact with them. In honor of Apple's contribution to the world, a giant hand was severed and then planted in the plush green grass of Cupertino, California by none other that God himself. There are many little known references in the Bible to a giant azure hand, which at a distance appears smooth and determined. Up close, however, the hand appears rough and jagged, a punishment to those who are not content to appreciate its unified beauty at a distance.

 

Then why the hell am I defiling the mighty azure hand by approaching it in such a manner? Well, the answer to this question is simple. I did not approach the hand. The hand bisected the space-time continuum with a mighty karate chop and BAM, there I was. It's akin to meeting the wizard of Oz. I once feared the mighty hand. But now that I have hi-fived the hand, I realize two important things. Number one, there is incredible beauty in imperfection. I'd go so far as to say that there is perfection in the imperfection of the mighty azure hand. Secondly, I realized that my reverence to its awesome power was not diminished by this supernatural experience.

This photo was snapped sometime in early 1996, just before I grabbed a pre-formed pie crust, dumped out the graham cracker powder, grabbed my prospecting gear, and headed to the west coast to... bah, I lost my train of thought.

moof!

Everyone that knows me well knows that I'm a big dog kinda guy. In fact, I'm so dedicated to my big dog Clarus, that I'm constantly shopping at the Big Dog clothing store, which is founded on the idea of recursive, unimaginative, and sickeningly dull modern retail marketing. For those of you that have never been to Big Dog, here is the basic premise:
Hey, let's make a store! What shall we call it? How about Big Dog? Cool! Hey, what should we sell? Well, how about merchandise that has our own yet to be designed logo on it? Hey, now there's a nifty idea! People will flock to this store and buy everything with our logo on it, even if there's no reason on God's Green Earth that people would recognize our logo since we haven't gone into business yet!

Don't you dare call my dog jaggy!

cricket with his widdle brudder

What is a brudder? Well, say it a few times to yourself. Think of siblings. Well, if you haven't gotten it by now, then you may never. I have no kids of my own, nor do I have a real little brother. But I have many younger friends that I either have adopted in a virtual sense or refer to as my little brothers or sisters. The one pictured here is named Ryan, and is one of three kooky kids that hatched from a great friend of mine, affectionately known by her friends as grouper. Ryan lives in Kansas most of the year, but comes out to California over the summer.
One day, hopefully way totally soon, I'll have some kids of my own. Kids know how to have a great time, without worrying about what other people will think of their spastic bouncing. They can have the time of their lives, without all the pretenses, without the influence of alcohol, and without giving a good god damn whether people sneer or turn their noses up at them. It's sad that most parents feel that their kids must only learn from them. Sometimes, it seems like people have children so that they can at least feel superior to someone. Kids lack experience, but they don't lack insight or intelligence. Their capacity to learn is far greater than ours and their insight is sharper than most adults, if I may be so bold as to call myself one.

This photo is from the summer of 1996, shortly after me and my widdle brudder got haircuts at the cheapie haircutty type place. He will hopefully come visit me next summer! Until then, I'll have to make do with goofy phone calls.