Take the Long Way Home

Dennis Parker was alerted by Ronnie Denham that we were looking for him and that we were admiring his senior portrait on the blog. He didn’t waste a minute in sending me an email and a photo of 12-year-old Deven and 8-year-old Kelsey. He says that despite his putting them to work in a mine two years ago, they are doing well, and we will see them all in June at the reunion picnic.

Only Dennis can tell the rest of his story in such a riveting style, so I leave you with his words for the rest of the post:

I did enjoy reading about Steven Parsons. When I graduated from LSU, I moved to Wilmington, DE (a few miles from DuPont). During that time, I also visited Raleigh on many occasions. I think Steve and I should have put on our leathers, jumped on our bikes, and cruised the coast. Anyway, I guess you want something about me (not sure why since I’m soooo boring nowadays).

1991: I graduated from LSU and got married to “the ex” (PR high school class of 82).
1992-1993: I attended grad school and worked at Ethyl Corp in Baton Rouge (and still had time to make kid #1).
Late 1993: I moved to Princeton, NJ, for Albemarle Corp.
1994: I moved to Wilmington, DE, and traveled relentlessly up and down the east coast and to Chicago a few times for the NPE.
1996: After the record snow fall (it was up to the door knob on my front door!), I moved to Dallas, TX. When I left Philly, it was 20 degrees; when I arrived in Dallas, it was 80. That put me in the mood for kid #2.
1996 and on: I spent time all over Asia (Japan more than 20 times, Singapore, China, HK, Philippines, Malaysia, blah, blah blah, etc and so on... boring).
2005: I remarried.
2006: I am expecting kid #3. (I'm too old, but ready or not....) I think it's time to move back north; the South is way too productive.

What else? I still love motorcycles. Last summer, I was up to three of them. Now I’m back down to one. I rode with about 30,000 other Hogs and such for Texas Charity toy runs (fun with a good purpose). I’m covered in tattoos now. My hair is down to my rear end, and I’m looking for a woman who won’t fall off the back of my bike. Geez, a couple of shots and they fall right off.

Just kidding! What little hair I have is nearly shaved, and I don’t have any tattoos (to speak of). We won’t talk about the falling-off part.

[Editor's note: Boring? Never!]