While going through my grandparents’ barn this past weekend I came across a box of old slides. This was one of the pictures I found. It was the summer of 1985. My grandfather and I were on one of our legendary camping trips to Dalton Pond in Northern Virginia. That summer we built everything that we needed for shelter….including this teepee.

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From the Vault #1

Three out of four of the Trig Dysfunctionals. We missed you at the reunion, Marin.

Post from my blog: A Guy Called Nick: My Thoughts, My Experiences, My Life
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Trig Dysfunctionals Unite! Well almost all of them…

I went to my 15 year high school reunion this past weekend. Had a great time! While I was there, several people commented that they loved my blog. I was shocked! All this time, I thought I only had a few loyal readers.

Here’s a picture of two of my friends from high school, Lesleyanne and Traci. Lesleyanne (middle) is constantly telling me how much she loves the blog, but never ever leaves comments….. Lesleyanne, here’s the shout out I promised you. You better start leaving comments now!!

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A Shout Out…As Promised!

I just found this image of my grandmother when she was in her early teens (or so it appears). She used to volunteer at the navy hospital. My mother said that the organization was something called JANGOS…but I am having trouble finding more information about it on the web.

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Navy Relief Volunteer

This weekend while I was at my Grandparents’ farm in Charlottesvile, we busted our asses.  There are tons of things that need to be done to the farm to get it back into shape and we have only just begun.  I was moving some stuff under the back deck and saw an opening to the crawl space of the house while under there.  I opened the door and saw something that I haven’t seen in years.  7 bottles of root beer.  Why were there seven bottles of root beer under the house? 

During the summers of my childhood, I spent ton’s of time at the farm with my grandfather.  One day when I was 11 or 12 I decided I wanted to learn how to make root beer.  My grandfather and I hopped in the car and went from store to store to gather all the necessary equipment and ingredients.   We got back and made home made root beer.  I distinctly remember making it.  When we were done, we put the bottles (a few dozen) under the house for it to ferment and cool and do whatever root beer does before drinking it.  At the end of the summer we went back and drank it.   Believe it or not, it wasn’t that bad.

The seven bottles were what was left under the house 21 years ago.  I decided to take one out and stick it on my mantle as a memory to one of my favorite memories as a kid.

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Vintage Root Beer

Yesterday was my grandfather’s birthday…90 years old. We went up to Charlottesville to help him celebrate and this was a photo I shot while there.

What an amazing life this man has lived…nothing short of Rock Star quality. He’s seen the world, raised a family, and has tons of stories to tell about this 90 year old journey. Let me rattle off a few of the things he has done:

• Grew up with the Hatfields and the McCoys (No Joke)
• An explorer of Mammoth Cave in Kentucky
• Flew with Charles Lindbergh
• Flew with Chuck Yeager
• Was a bombardier in World War II for the Air Force (reached Lieutenant Colonel status)
• Worked for the CIA under the Corona Project
• Worked for the Environmental Protection Agency
• He is in the Smithsonian’s National Air and Space Museum with not one, but two contributions.

I’ve written about him before in this blog, but I feel it is necessary to reiterate how much of a hero this man is to me and how much of an inspiration he has been on my life. Many of his stories and lessons follow me on a day to day basis. I can remember spending summers with him growing up and those being some of the best experiences of my life. Camping, panning for gold, surviving tornados, relic hunting, archaeology, and making root beer are only a few of the many vivid memories I have with my grandfather by my side.

He truly is and will always be the smartest man I know. He is an expert in multiple fields, and a humble one at that. Thanks for sharing 33 of those 90 years so far with me, Paboy. I look forward to many more with you.

Post from my blog: A Guy Called Nick: My Thoughts, My Experiences, My Life
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A Hero’s Birthday: 90 Years On This Planet So Far!

A few weeks back my mom brought over a box of pictures and artwork from when I was young so that I could go through them and keep what I wanted.  In that box was my orginal birth certificate.  I hadn’t seen this thing in years!  I looked at the back of it and there were the foot prints of my tiny little feet.  The funny thing is, only nine toes showed up on the print.

When I was born, my parents didn’t get to see me until after they received this birth certificate.  I was whisked away to wherever they take jaundiced babies and my parents were left in the delivery room.  Here lies the funny part.  They looked at the birth certificate and saw that there were only nine toes on the print.  They were convinced that I had a deformed foot.  Luckily for me, that wasnt the case.  As soon as the nurses brought me back into the room, my father quickly counted all my toes.  Guess what…they were all there. 

Perhaps this is where I first learned to always expect the worse in life?

Post from my blog: A Guy Called Nick: My Thoughts, My Experiences, My Life
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Nine Toes?

Whenever I sit down to draw something I always seem to be focused on faces.  Its wierd.  I have these unbelievable visions of landscapes and machines, but faces are what always come out.  Above is one that came out several years ago.  Over the next few days I will post a few.  None of them are great by any means, some are downright creepy…and I have no idea where they come from because they resemble no one I know.

Post from my blog: A Guy Called Nick: My Thoughts, My Experiences, My Life
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The Many Faces in My Head

This photo is somewhere around 1980 or 1981 I believe.  That is me, sitting in front of my mother’s first car….that car would eventually be my first car.  And now…it sits in my garage.

Post from my blog: A Guy Called Nick: My Thoughts, My Experiences, My Life
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Just a Little Guy

Above is a picture of the place I first lived when I moved out of the house.  Matt and I shared this apartment for almost 6 years…its hard to believe we fit in that 1000 square foot place for that long.  It was our place and we were proud of it.  The only thing that would make it more bachelor padish would be a dart board and a neon Budweiser sign.  Good think we didn’t drink Bud. 

Numbered on the photo are some of the finer points that made it a bachelor pad…

1.  A plant that grew the entire length of a 10 foot hallway.  It was thumbtacked to the ceiling.
2.  A fish tank with one of the meanest fish you will ever meet.  We rarely saw him due to the algae and flies that grew in the tank.
3. Bare walls.  What bachelor pad is complete without barewalls.
4.  A skateboard hangin from the living room wall.
5. Four surfboards strewn throughout the living room, dining room, and hallway.
6. A skateboard under the dining room table.
7. A chair that has internal speakers.  Being male is great.
8. A remote control car.
9. A diesel fuel lamp
10. This one is actually outside.  Its a pidgeon condo.  We put a love seat out on the deck and pidegons decided to make a community under it.  We constantly had baby pidgeons and a layer of crap 4 inches thick.  Its a wonder we never got ill.
11. A gumball machine filled with beer caps.
12. CDs on the living room wall.  LOTs of CDs.
13. What surfers pad is complete without an Endless Summer Movie poster.  I think we watched that movie 100 times in that very living room.
14. Entertainment center with way more equipment and speakers necessary for such a tiny place.  Again…its good to be male.
15. A Garfield Piggy Bank.

We were young….we were dumb….but we did have fun.  I miss that place.

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Apartment 301: Bachelor Pad Extraordinaire