Greetings Fellow Readers. Just got back from Wallace Marine Park. Saw the lights on and I figured I would walk down and watch some softball. There was only one game going on. I remember the day when all four fields would have had game on them until 10:30. Apparently not anymore. I came home and did a google search on fastpitch softball... the Men's Major had seven teams! Unbelievable. I guess I quit at the right time. It was funny to note that a guy that I came up with (he played for Seafirst) knocked in the winning run in the championship game. We used to get so stoned after the games were over and then we'd go to The Goose and drink copious amounts of beer. Ah, those were the good ol' days.

Speaking of drinking, this coming Friday marks eight years of sobriety for yours truly. Is it a coincidence that I quit drinking on the birthday of the only girl I ever loved. Probably, but the irony never escapes me. We still talk once and a while. And I see her when I'm up in the Seattle area from time to time. We used to run 10K everyday... then go to Baskins and Robbins for ice cream. Those were even better days.

Now? Now I'm $41K in debt from student loans, drive a truck with 230K miles on it, haven't been to a doctor in over twenty years and I am desperately hoping to land a job that pays less than the one I had in 1991 (eleven years before I received my Master's degree).

A mutual friend of me and Tim W. says that he thinks that 5% or less of people who graduated with a MFA in Photography are working in the field. Imagine if the same was said for engineers, doctors or lawyers. There'd be a congressional investigation into why. But who cares when it's a bunch of dumb-assed artists! (Silly us)! Don't get me wrong, I'm glad I did it. It's just that when you finish there is nothing waiting for you. Nobody wants you; your degree is worth less than the sheepskin it's printed on... unless you are one of the very few lucky ones that lands a job. Which, it is beginning to look like, isn't me.