I was born Sept. 26, 1963. I knew I was different than the other children in Dartmouth, Nova Scotia. They were reading Nancy Drew, Scholastic books, and talking about typical kiddy stuff. I was reading Edgar Allen Poe, H.P. Lovecraft, and translated works by the Marquis DeSade, and sitting in a corner drawing gravestones and haunted houses and rotted corpses in basements.

When my parents moved to rural Pictou, an isolated hamlet north of Nowhere, and I found myself trying to be friendly towards inbred fishermen’s children and thugs who thought ‘smart’ was a codeword for ‘target’, I realized that I’d better get used to having a powerful imagination for a friend.  Fandom provided people to talk to, but since they knew about shows like Voyage, I realized that I had to be able to speak their language, so I dove in.

 It didn’t take long to find episodes that inspired me. (The two Phantom episodes,  the three werewolf ones, various intense espionage and even some of the goofier monster ones (Vincent Price and the puppet Admiral, anyone?)

 I found friends, some of which stuck around and some of which disappeared and are much missed (Christopher ‘Gooder’ DuFour, are you out there?) I’m still out here, in the foggy netherworld, so if you want to visit this strange old mausoleum, I’m on FB and Yahoo, with a website possible.