The old man look is history.

Logical Thinking Man said a beard in winter is necessary to keep the nose from freezing. Truth is there ain't enough hair on my nose. When I need it most during summer marathon garden projects, it's not practical. All that fur and 105 degrees in the shade? I'll stock up on 70 SPF sunscreen. Time for a haircut, too.

At breakfast I'm enjoying(surprise) a slice of calf liver. Mutt, the number one son, brought some on the plane for a brief visit from Nome, Alaska.

Reading the latest copy of The Week, there's a photo and blurb about a felon who has a beard like mine. I draw the line at looking like a felon who kidnapped somebody. The other shot taken of myself at the same time, I put up on Facebook. The idea is to scare off people who want to be my friends. A friend at the library parodying the Facebook motto, says "Not me, Not ever" in response to my prodding him about appearing on the social network.

Number One son and I have a discussion about the merits of exposing yourself (legally) . Thomas Hayden Church in the movie Easy A echoes the thoughts of a few naysayers like me and my webmaster-mundane expressions of boring lifestyles. OSWWGAS. Oh so what.... Yet, look at me doing the same shit. What a knob.

This is me at a flea market in Santa Fe. In the picture what's not known is that I can't afford to buy any fleas because I dropped a bundle on a cross from a place with the catchy name of Born In a Barn. Poor photo quality because it's 2nd generation. Digital shot of a glossy print, hand held.

Curious feature of the first photograph is the picture of my late adopted mother over my right shoulder. I've always felt that she's out there, like a Guardian Angel. The picture of her in ribbon shirt and the Mona Lisa smile hangs in my office. I miss her.

I've been blessed with three mothers. I have a sister I'm not related to, who lives across the state. Our mother in common was responsible for the "eat your liver or you can't leave the table" torture when I was a kid. Hence the surprise at breakfast. I shoulda known that the kid would turn me on to liver since he works at one of the top restaurants above the Arctic Circle where a hamburger costs $10 because they are so good.


Then there's this other picture of me with Bill and Dolly, my mismatched team of horses.

For Christmas Dawn got me a French coffee press. I thought that with a cuppa gourmet coffee after a healthy breakfast of liver and potatoes O'Brien I'd have something worthwhile to write instead of a snapshot tour of Gavrillo.

I'm going to work on New Year's resolutions which among a long list of "I will's" shall include a ban on self deprecation, sarcasm and shameless self promotion.

Add one stupid hat, flash photography and we've got a picture that scares me. Reminds me of one New Year's Eve I walked into the restroom of a defunct Milwaukee restaurant. Near the inside entrance is a full length mirror. After too much beer, wine or whatever, I'm aware that mirrors are scary things in the basement of a French restaurant on the lower east side. I jumped when I saw this man staring at me.

Do some people actually look at their profile pictures on Facebook?

I'll think I'll call Jorge. He's always good for a laugh.