While scrubbing off my “Who Is Mark Thomas?” page I clicked through to this link, which sent me to a scan of an article from the first time I was in the New York Times. I do not remember the last time I saw this picture. I cannot believe I used to look like this. And this is when I was at corporate, when you’d think I might have carried myself with a little more sartorial and hair-related decorum.

I used to look like this

I used to look like this.

Renovating my contact page turned out to be something of a depressing chore. I don’t like looking at or reading about myself, and there is something particularly melancholy about reading comments I made on the so-called Record when I have no memory of saying them. I’ve found writing and music of mine which I had no memory of creating but I actually like that sort of quasi-discovery. I’d like to think it is to be expected given my intermittent periods of prolificness. But in other contexts it feels like I am bumbling and stumbling through this life, not aware of my surroundings or actions.

It’s actually a really cool picture, though, even if I do not recognize the person pictured. The photographer and I happened to have graduated from the same college. When we made this discovery she asked me, timidly, “Did you like it there?” I smirked and replied “No.” “I didn’t, either,” was her reply. I don’t think anyone had ever asked me that. We did not talk about college much more but it was somewhat gratifying to know I was not alone in feeling ambivalent at best about those 4 years. There were good times, of course, particularly in at the radio station. But for the most part I passed through those years feeling like I just wanted to get them over with.

The photo shoot for that story lasted something like 4 hours. After all those hours the picture published was one of the very first ones taken. It was on the 36th Avenue N train platform with the Citi Building in Long Island City lurking somewhat anonymously in the background. I might have looked for passable images which used a coin-fed payphone versus the credit card type but it’s all good. The photographer gave me a piece of advice I’ve always remembered: When doing an extended outdoor photo shoot you should always overdress. She also made a comment that I’ve since repeated to others. Regarding her then-recent move from film to digital she said that in the end it only changes how you shoot. It doesn’t change what you shoot.

I am trying for serenity in my mind. I can’t always achieve it but I’ve taken to less long walks and more time here at the desk. I need to start recording again and to that end it appears I will be in receipt of a new field recorder at a pretty generous discount. I had thought about sending the old Sony PCM-D50 in for repairs but an e-mail correspondence with Sony revealed that they no longer had parts to fix the D50. Instead of sending the D50 in they offered a discount on the D100. It’s not exactly a blockbuster discount but I’ll take it. All in all for the price I think I’m spending only a little bit more than what it might have cost to fix the D50, and it comes with all the accessories. I still was weighing a choice between the D100 and the latest Tascam recorders but in the end the Sony had one feature that was the dealmaker: A wireless remote. The others I looked at had wired remotes — if they had any remotes at all. This is interesting, right?