Because there are only ten people who actually look at this blog, because I just scanned a boatload of old pictures into my computer, and because I'm feeling a little brave, I thought this would be a good time to show you all some embarrassing pictures (potty training pics omitted). I've always hated pictures of myself. If someone points a camera at me, I try to dodge the viewfinder, or I'll make a weird face. Here are a few reasons why:
Halloween 1983. Ducks in a row, from left to right: Micah, Erin, Val (my sister), me. Now, my question for you (and you don't get to answer this, Mom): What was I dressed up as? I bet you won't guess it, since I don't think I look like what I'm supposed to be.
Same question for this picture: What the hell am I supposed to be, here!?! My dad titled this picture, "Daniel Crockett." I say the kid in this picture looks like a grade-A hammerhead. Man, could I strike a pose, though!
This is my neighbor, Micah, and me. We're at Camp Roger in Dutch-country, Michigan. Or, if you're familiar with the state, anywhere in Michigan.
All-star catcher for the Mets. I'm pretty sure the fact that I was a Met broke my dad's heart. He still talks about the '69 season. If you're familiar with the Cubs' storied past, you know all about it. If you're not aware, the Cubs barely beat the Mets to win the East. Then they went on to win their 28th World Series Championship. Anyway, this was my last season playing for Briarcliffe baseball. I missed one game that year (for a church related event) and got yelled at by the coach because we lost. Thus proving, religion destroys everyone's dreams.
This is me standing behind mine and my dad's birthday cake (we were born on the same day). I'm sporting a Mickey Mouse helicopter hat because, as evidenced in previous photos, I have what is commonly referred to as "a wicked fashion sense." Take that however you like. If you look closely at my right cheek (my wicked side), you'll notice a series of scabs. I acquired these by riding my bike into a tree...less than 48 hours before class picture day. Needless to say, I ended up going to picture retake day that year.
Now I'm going to cry myself to sleep.