Eric is a tinkerer; he likes to make things. Perhaps it began with a custom van built in the long-haired days of the seventies—an old school bus with an engine salvaged from the junk yard. Or with the dozens of motorcycles ridden, broken, repaired and ridden again. Eric has built furniture and guitars; he’s screen-printed t-shirts in his garage and he’s created package-design. As a teen he worked out a billing system for a huge newspaper route (because he didn’t like knocking on doors), and he currently writes software for corporate clients—for a time working out of the traveling RV he and Sue called home. He built and flew a gyrocopter over the cane-fields and beaches of south Florida, and he’s done website design.
But of all the avocations and pass-times in which he’s dabbled, Eric stands most in awe of one. Consider that most elusive of creations—the story, words which capture your mind. Ink on paper, black on white—a collection of simple articulations woven into a journey bounded only by the imagination.
After more than three decades in south Florida, Eric and lovely wife Susan moved to the Upstate region of South Carolina, where the nearby Appalachians clamor for exploration.
When cranky knees allow it, bicycling is a favored indulgence, often on a laid-back recumbent. Motorcycling remains a life-long passion (he enjoys teaching the occasional weekend safety class to bright-eyed newbies, both young and old), and he forever persists in being confounded by the acoustic guitar.
He was likely a cat in a previous life, as there’s a definite affinity. He might look odd to some as he tromps off with his dual walking sticks, a rear-view mirror clipped to his bill-cap. A little girl runs alongside to wave her hand and call out “Hi Mister ski-man!”
Shhh! Don’t tell anyone, but Eric still wonders what it is that he’ll do, should he ever grow up….