Mark and I met in 1985 and, like most kids, we explored the poles of the teenage experience to define our own identities--we were skaters, slackers, authority challengers, artists. We were writers, scholars, philosophers, dudes who flirted with each others' sisters. We were off-the-gridders, dirt bags, pretty boys, climbers, surfers, journalists, lady-crazed Jewbags, monks, walkers, bikers, boaters, shut-ins, fly fishermen, mountain towners, club kids, river guides, musicians.
Interestingly, the middle ground we've reached thirty years later, each on our separate corners of the continent, looks a lot like the suburbs.
Go figure.
I've learned to visit this space, but Mark has always inhabited it.
You can check out his design/build studio HERE.
Recommended Pairing: this Bronson pairs best with a lukewarm Heineken in a can, poached from your folk's fridge on a warm summer night. Best when split between two underage drinkers in a tree fort.
