My Oh My,
Where HAVE I Been?

I love to travel. I’ve been all over the lower forty-eight and Alaska, but here are some of my international explorations.

These photos are from France. I participated in a two week tour program as a sophomore in high school. Hard to believe just how long ago this all was.

This was the first sight that greeted our group as we exited the bus in mid-Paris. Granted, one member had stepped off briefly prior to our official arrival here to attend to a little nauseau (I’m sure the French were thrilled about that); but for the rest of us, it was like stepping into an incredible dream.

Here are a bunch of kids from my high school, although I couldn’t fit the entire group into the photo. The main attraction here, of course, is the pig roasting on the spit in the window. That was so fascinating to them; I guess Americans view public displays of unpackaged meat as vulgar and barbaric, probably the same way Europeans view our American habit of marrying first cousins.

This is my friend Lara Antkowiak. I had sort of lost track of her for a while, then we caught up with each other in perhaps 1997 or 1998, before losing touch again; however, with our ten year reunion coming up in November, I’m sure we will get back in touch again. (One of the whole purposes of this web page is that I am hoping to contact some old friends I haven’t heard from in ages!) This was at St. Malo, when Lara, Todd, April, and I sneaked away from our group for an entire afternoon to frolick on the beach (it was freezing, early April!) and explore the back streets of St. Malo.

Well, I figured that Todd Richards would probably want to kill me for this shot, but he didn’ (or at least claims he doesn’). And it’s the best picture of us from France that I have. This is the day that this chick, Jamie, from the New Orleans group, did our hair. Gimme a break, it was the eighties.

Todd was my best friend sophomore year of high school. Prior to departure, he and I recorded what is known now as the apocryphal French Soundtrack. Included were such memorable classics as “Slam Dance in France,” which samples the Fat Boys “Fat Boys are Back;” “Coneheads Go to France with Bill,” with its exuberant Abbaesque chorus; “Rainbow Bill,” a country tribute to our teacher, Bill Kehew, and his timeless fashion mistakes which include a rainbow sweater in which the stripes are non-sequential but, rather, clashing, and a plaid shirt reminiscent of a Pizza Hut table cloth; “March in Paris (Bill Takes a Walk);” “The Eighteen Willied Slime Creature From the Blue Tarpits of Planet ZƢ (original title has been censored to avoid Internet censorship), a punk send-up; and many, many more.

Incidentally, you can link to Todd at www.runninglate.freeservers.com. Todd & I still have many similar tastes in music, even a decade later... as I told him, “Todd, styles may change... but style doesn’t. Great minds always think alike.” He also gave me a whole bunch of links which I will use to update mine. God bless!

This was one of the little cottages in Marie Antoinette’s little personal hamlet. She used to dress up as a peasant and walk around dusting everything (not thoroughly, mind you). She thought it quaint to distance herself from the “stress” of royal life by living the simple, uncluttered life of the poor folk. Of course, little did she know that peasant life consisted of more than light feather dusting; in fact, she couldn’t even do that with competence -- a maid had to follow her from room to room, finishing the dust job and cleaning up any messes that Ms. Marie created along the way. Anyway, we weren’t supposed to be up there, obviously... the whole place was roped off, but Jolene Bimford (I probably misspelled that) and I threw caution to the wind for the sake of art.

Of course, it wouldn’t be France without the chateaux. This is Chenonceau (I’ve probably misspelled it; feel free to correct me if you know the proper spelling... Ben, I’m talking to you! I need your expertise in French!). Todd and I were totally impressed with this one... it would make a fantastic recording studio! I also loved Le Mont Saint Michel (also likely misspelled), which wasn’t a chateau but a monastery.

Let’s go back to the Gallery Entrance!