Updated 06 December 2001. Looking up from the desk, a curiosity emanates from within the darkened grey eyes. "What is it you want." He looks almost amused although his jaw is set in just a way that would show a bit of ill temperament, as if you disturbed him at a bad time. "Knowledge of me? What for, pray tell?" Telling him you've heard a tale or two, some good or horrific, a mild chuckle is heard, and he opens a fresh bottle of rye, pouring two glasses, one for you, one for himself. "Alright, sit down and I'll tell you a couple of stories...or three, if the liquor does its usual job of loosening my tongue. Once you get me started sometimes you can't stop.." The study door closes, and he gets rather sullen, a bit withdrawn. The rye isn't hitting him as well as it does generally; a melancholiness fills the shared space instead. "Ho there fellow, (or 'young lady', depending on the caller), "why not read this instead." He pushes his journal across the desktop."Will save you from my rantings and ramblings, and will ensure me some quality drinking time as you peruse my recollections of days gone by til present." The weathered book spans a bit better than a decade, and it's in your hands if you wish to delve into his life. The table of contents, in a fine scripted hand, is below. || Myself. ||My Children. || Women Past and Present || My Family || My Life ||