A place to indulge my narcissism... and write stuff...


Start me up

My earliest memories were of my mother crying on and off for a few days while the TV flickered grainy black and white images. My father tells me I was with him, underground in Boston’s Park Street subway station when he saw someone reading the old “Record American.”  Its tabloid headline screamed, “JFK ASSASSINATED.”  In many ways, that event shaped the world I grew up in.  Vietnam, the drug culture of the 60’s, rock, Watergate, and the collapse of the ’78 Red Sox… It was also in ’78 that I was a proud member of the Intercity League Wakefield Merchants baseball team.  It was the first championship for Wakefield since the inception of the league in 1950.

After college in Tuscon at the University of Arizona , I moved back home to Wakefield, MA, waited tables and took some acting classes for a few years before landing a job in high-tech at NEC Information Systems.  I met my wife at NEC; we watched the Sox meltdown in Game 6 of 1986, and married in 1987. I adopted Gigi’s daughter Jessica, and we had our first child, Megan, in 1989.  Kyle was born a couple years later, in 1991.

I was with NEC for 16 years, primarily in the AFIS division, a place that holds many great stories deserving a home. While at NEC in the mid 90’s I met Jeff Copetas. Jeff helped reawaken my love for music and one day asked, “Hey, wanna start a record label?” Tar Hut Records was great fun, and produced three life-long friends.  After surviving the overhyped Y2K scare, I left NEC and joined Kronos Incorporated in 2000.  After 9 records and lots of tax deductions, we folded Tar Hut in 2001.

In 2010, I celebrated 10 years with Kronos, a great company with an amazing record of success. Megan and daughter Madison (b. 10/19/07) live with me and Kyle spends time with us and his mom and step-dad. Jessica has two children of her own, Mackenzie and Cameron.

I try to laugh, and make others laugh, every day.  These days it’s easier than ever.


  1. wesley


  2. fzdkhfdhdfzhjdfzhdfhkgfhdghugradkhgdshgfguhgrhurghureuhrhugrhugrhurehurhurhurhurhhugrhugrhgttrhtrhthththththtbhgtthtrhgnhttrhrthhgrhdtiuh4gtg45uygteruy54htiu45gtiu4h5jjyftgutbryry6btgttiuh45igt4yg45ry


  3. fzdkhfdhdfzhjdfzhdfhkgfhdghugradkhgdshgfguhgrhurghureuhrhugrhugrhurehurhurhurhurhhugrhugrhgttrhtrhthththththtbhgtthtrhgnhttrhrthhgrhdtiuh4gtg45uygteruy54htiu45gtiu4h5jjyftgutbryry6htry5yb5ey5tbytytrbyr5by56yu6yu65bbtgttiuh45igt4yg45ry


  4. Teresa Carson

    Great perspective that rings all too familiar. My first memories are vey similar.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

© 2024 Fifteenkey

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑