On the outside: My apologies

Sunday, January 31, 2010

My apologies

Screen shot of Mark Francis' new website -created by Frank Ritcey, Cafe Productions

I've been reading back through my posts and I realize a shocking truth. I haven't done anything really stupid lately. No broken bones. No frantic search parties. No additional scars and/or distinguishing features.

In short, I haven't been my usual self. This working for a living is really starting to cramp my style. I have however finished off another website. This one is for the third of the Francis painters - Mark. I would really like to meet Mark as he sounds like an interesting sort who has spent a lot of time in the film industry and has become quite an accomplished set designer - prop maker type of guy (I think that is the technical term they use in the biz these days).

I'll post the temporary link to Mark's site on my personal website: www.frankritcey.com and you can view it there. Leave me a post or comment if you have any trouble loading it. I've been having some issues with Internet Explorer and my sloppy coding. Firefox and Chrome are much more forgiving browsers for sure.

If opportunity calls I'm off for a city hike.

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Please feel free to leave a comment. Ever since old Rebel rolled on me and I've been strapped to this old hospital bed I've enjoyed whatever posts come my way.

Please read the disclaimer

I am a highly trained athlete with years of living in the wilds of northern Canada. I was raised by wolves. I've wrestled Grizzlies with my bare hands - twice I was killed by them and twice I killed them. I rode with Gabriel Dumont. I was lead oarsman when our ship landed at L'anse aux meadows. I poured Sir John A. his last scotch and held the spike at Craigellachie.

In short, I've been around and I would feel real bad if someone with less experience went out on one of my adventures and ended up like, well, like me. If I say it's a tough go, it's a tough go and maybe you should think twice about doing it.

I'll tell the story one day about the ill fated ski trip to Pyramid Lake where I saw a grown man cry at the prospect of death. He didn't believe me when I told him about what was required of a participant in what we liked to call the Cursed Black Trail of All encompassing Evil and Death. Don't you be like that fellow.

But on a lighter note! Please leave a comment, good bad or indifferent as it is the only payment we writers receive. Unless of course you count that big advance royalty cheque that Rocky Mountain Press will be cutting me for my soon to be released book "101 ways to die in the wilds of Canada"