Recently recovered from some negatives whose prints I lost years and years ago, here are a few rare glimpses of my very first apartment, and its occupants.
This was my computer desk at the time. I was terribly fond of making mix tapes at the time, hence the two Pioneer magazine-style CD changers, the mixing board, and the at-the-ready magazine holders. The computer monitor was a mighty generic amber screen. The other monitor was what I used for my TV viewing; it was a composite color monitor – a nice one – which had come with my first computer in 1981, a Franklin Ace 1000. In this photo it was already at least 12-13 years old.
It’s interesting to note how much of the furniture and even equipment I simply don’t have anymore. This is the stuff that vanished moving from apartment to apartment in Fort Smith, and then from Fort Smith to Green Bay, and then back again. The items you see here that I still have: the CDs and magazines, the Daleks (on top of the CD racks), Burchuss, the grandfather clock, the dapper red-and-white striped hat (to the left of the CD racks), and the big speakers.
I had wall-to-wall bookshelves back in the day, but much of that space wasn’t just filled with books. There are three-ring binders with all sorts of articles I was saving, and this was back in the day when I still had a damn-near-complete collection of the Doctor Who New Adventures novels to date. That big metal shelf in the back, next to the curtains (which led out to the balcony), contained all my Apple II computers and their monitors (5-6 of each).
What I still have from this picture: some of the books, one bookshelf, and my mom’s brass elephant bookends (seen on top of the speaker).
I was still very actively into recording stuff on my four-track recorder at this time; if you visit my music section (see the menu at the top of the page), this photo was taken around the time “What Do We Do On Sunday Morning” was recorded, if memory swerves correctly. What I still have: the guitar and all of the keyboards, but not all of the keyboard stands.
Pardon the slightly off-color candid shots here. These are the only photos I have of a kitten named Thisby, who I adopted from the Fort Smith humane society about a week after my cat Casey died. (I had had Casey for over ten years, and I was probably 21 when these pictures were taken, so you do the math.) Thisby only lived about a week; she came from a litter that had been exposed to feline leukemia and, like her brothers and sisters and mother, didn’t survive.
I was in love with my new little kitty. I think these pictures were taken a day after I brought her home.
This is probably about the most photogenic image of me that it’s even remotely possible to get. And even then, Thisby’s still the looker in this photo.
How to bother a kitten without really trying.
Who is this guy, and why won’t he let me sleep!?
Thisby got her name from Shakespeare’s “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” from the play put on by some of the characters within the play, “Pyramus and Thisby.” It just seemed like a good kitty name.
Arrrr matey! There’s a parrot on me shoulder and it’s in me kitten’s belly!
Okay, you can let me down now.
I really missed Thisby after she was gone; she was almost Olivia cute. Having lost her and Casey in the space of a month, I didn’t get another cat for several months because I was doubting my own ability to take care of another living being. The next time I did go to the humane society to find a new friend, I couldn’t pick just one, and that’s how I came to adopt Othello and Iago.
