Okay, I actually dated a hopelessly young, squirrel-cheeked, funny, kind-hearted bookworm/flute-player who grew up to be an astronaut.
But I think you follow.
We're the toughians on the far right:
please click photo to enlarge
Here's what I know about this photo:
(1) It's dated December 1976;
(2) It's the band for a dinner-theater musical production;
(3) I was two days away from earning my first dollar as a musician;
(4) we were all incredibly young.
Here's what I can glean from this photo:
(1) I was at the height of my musical money-making career -- it was all downhill after this;
(2) I was one incredibly prescient m*therfucher, who could foresee by fifteen years the fashion trend of turning around a baseball cap* and striking a tough pose;
(3) my favourite future astronaut did not yet have gravitas;
(4) she did have Cutes in spades;
(5) I had not yet shown her my moves, which consisted of taking her to massive arena "rock" shows [The Eagles? America (with Burton Cummings opening)?] and then trying not to act like the insecure weanie that I was (am?).
Mister Muleboy has suggested to me on more than one occasion that I'm a big fat liar. While I'm big and fat, and am a liar, I offer proof that I don't always lie about women. . .
My reason for de-lurking and publishing? My Favourite Astronaut is currently orbiting our beautiful planet on the International Space Station, making life a little better for all of us down here. I owe her a debt of gratitude.
Yes indeed. . . .
*well, technically it was a golf hat -- the white hat read "Golf Club Saigon," with that golf club's logo. And yes, I did buy it at the Golf Club of Saigon. . .