Undeniable Geekdom

I have been sorting through old pictures for the kids. Since I am not close enough for them to dig through albums whenever they need an identity fix, we agreed I'd scan just about everything and divide it all up.

Looking at old photos is great at rekindling fond memories, but it has opened my eyes to something I've been denying for more than 40 years. I am a geek!

I have tried hard to keep that under wraps and thought I was doing a great job, but I know now that I was only fooling myself.

One of daughter #1's favorite pictures is of me and the band. It's one of her "you were so cool, once!" photos. I have her fooled, too, apparently. Look closely at that picture. No, not at my outfit - it was a "Come as Your CB Handle" party and I was Lady Marmalade, the hooker known for gittin' her yayas. And, no, the fact that I chose a hooker for my CB handle doesn't make me a geek, nor does the fact I had a CB. This was a year or two before that convoy song ruined the radio waves and we could no longer find each other in the noise of 13 year olds trying to talk to truckers. And I figured having a hooker for a handle would make me cool.

Still haven't figured it out? Look at my hands, the right hand especially. See it? Yup, I am snapping to the beat. Who but a geek would snap along with Led Zepplin and Robin Trower? Yep, there I am watching Steve and Jeff jam to "Black Dog", snapping along til I can sing again! And it's permanently recorded, thanks to my photography buddy, Jeff.

All these years I thought I was a closet geek, but I find my closet had glass doors, and a camera lens pointed at it.