Biography: I grew up in central California, got a bachelors degree in computer science from UC Santa Barbara and have worked in high tech as a software engineer for 30 years. Writing is a fun escape from my regular work. I write short, slice-of-life stories with some humor and insight. Typically, they are funny, easy-to-read stories that leave the reader chuckling. I’ve submitted some work to publications, but so far all I’ve heard is the dog barking at the mailman. I’ll keep writing and I’ll keep submitting my work. Who knows, maybe one day the dog will meow. Fictional Biography: In ’84 I graduated with a bachelors degree in CompSci from UCSB. After the graduation ceremony I spent my last 2 bucks on a six pack and 5 gallons of gas. I drove to Palo Alto to look for my cat. I figured any cat that lived near Stanford had to be smart. My cat had become feral, living off raw fish, stock options and fraternity dish water. Fortunately for me, he had recently been hired as Director of NoCodingStandards at a Palo Alto based start up…any warm body would do and he had a wet nose,too. When I saw him sitting outside of a lunch-time sushi bar on Waverly, licking his paws and stretching his tail, I realized things in P.A. were different. By 2PM he had hired me as Manager of MisNamingSubroutines & TabsNotSpaces. With a bachelor’s degree in guessing-until-it-worked, I was perfect for the job. I tell ya, that first paycheck out of college was so sweet, especially when the start-up’s CEO called us all together to tell us “the bank opens at 10, go get cash before the company account is tapped out”. My cat didn’t even break a sweat at the news, so I just figured that’s the way it rolls in PA. I’d been living with him & his friends for the two weeks I’d worked at the start up. I took my paycheck, got my cash & went to the nearby Ace Hardware store & bought the biggest damn gas powered leaf blower they had. After a morning like that, I needed my space ! When we got back to our little 2 bedroom, 1121 sqft, 53 cat rental. I fired up that big ass wind tunnel & starting cleaning out all the cat hair, attached or not. Curtains were lifting like Marilyn Monroe’s skirt & rugs were jumping up from the floor like startled bullfrogs. You know how good it feels to work a blower like that! When that last, final, stubborn leaf, or cat hair, relents from its hold & flies out the door, past the sidewalk and beyond your concern, you switch off the growling beast, get a cold one from the frig and drop on some Marley. It’s a feeling that’s probably like coming down from the cross.