My first bike was a hand me down from my sister, complete with banana seat and tassels. I persuaded my parents to get me something a little cooler and one birthday I was in possession of a sweet Huffy BMX. I rode that bike all over town. I was the only 3rd grader who rode his bike to school. Then I discovered that some older neighborhood kids had built a BMX dirt track in the woods, complete with a dug out dirt half pipe. And, so began the crashes. All of my most lasting scars have come from bike accidents, but I always get right back on often ignoring the sage advice given to me by the medical community. I got older and the bikes got bigger and faster. My friends and I would ride around town at night by moonlight, racing through the vacant streets.
Upon graduating from college, I was kidnapped by a metal band, thrown into a van, driven across state lines, and flown over international waters. Soon after I developed several symptoms of Stockholm syndrome, and began tour managing the drunken band of unshowered miscreants. After several years of world tours, nightly parties, and the constant sighs of groupies as they found out that I was not in fact the drummer, I was beginning to feel unfulfilled by my captivity. I wanted to ride my bike again. I broke free of my kidnappers. I call them every now and then to remind them to call their moms.
The first thing I did when I got home from the road, I got myself a new bike, and began to tackle the mean streets of Boston. I still crash, and I still just get right back on.
I enjoy going for long runs in the woods. I try everyday to a take deep breath and take notice of the sky during sunrise or sunset. I would rather be outside than inside. I am unimpressed by technology. I dream in full vivid color. I entertain myself nightly by playing the ukulele. If anyone out there has a stray mandolin they just canít care for anymore, I would be willing to give it a good home. I will not date someone who does not habitually read books. I once circumnavigated the globe in less than a week. If I was ever to be presented with the option of either receiving a million dollars or a cat, I would take the cat. Popcorn is the best snack food. I have an overpowering addiction to cookies. I take my coffee black.
I love the factory floor. It is filled with people who are enthusiastic about what they are doing. Its cold in the winter and sweat drips from your brow in the summer, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I wash the dirt and grease from my hands everyday, knowing that I put in a good days work.
Finisher, male model.
I donít get to many questions about my job at Seven. Often when someone gets me on the subject of Seven they donít get a chance to get a word in. Then their head starts bobbing, their eyelids close and the sun comes up.