Art Chippendale:  

November 2009 (Edited and spell checked in August 2010) Somewhere, a long way down the . Last year, my brother, Chris, sent me a copy of the 1967 "El Spiritus" yearbook. Back then I used to entertain myself by imagining you all naked. At last, my memories of you are now clothed in jackets and ties or those adorable satin gowns. I can almost smell the Brill Cream and hairspray. I still ask myself, "Who are these people"? Did I have intimate contact with them? What humiliating faux pas did I commit? Where are my glasses? Do I owe anyone money? Does anyone owe me money? Now I am trying to imagine you as old, overweight, loose skinned, balding and no more able to recall who I was than where you left your keys. It will be even harder to remember me because my picture doesn't even appear in the '67 yearbook. Maybe it was my long hair which prevented the administration from allowing my image to dirty their precious periodical. (After all, I don't see any pictures of you guys sporting rock locks.) More likely, I was just playing hooky. Either way, you are probably stuck with your sartorially unattired memory of me. My apologies. It's been a long and winding... cliche. Its true that I've had more jobs than I've had shoes. My career finally peaked in the 90's after a ten year stint as publisher and marketing director/consultant with KCET (PBS). If you were ever a member, then you probably got something I produced. Again, my apologies. In 1995 we moved the family to Vashon Island, Washington, where we shared fences with horses, goats, various yardbirds and asso...Expand for more