My mom walking me in the Syracuse snow — sometime in 1967, I’m guessing. I’m not sure why everything’s kinda pink. It was the Winter of Love, man!
This is my sister Jennifer sitting on the hood of a car, because in 1970, you were totally allowed to drive around like that. Nowadays you have all the worrywart parents and their “car seats” and whatnot. It’s a shame.
This is my sister Katie who we adopted from Korea just a few months before this picture. So behind that smile is a girl going, “What is this cold white shit and when can I go home?”
Me and my brother. I’m on the left, displaying one of my many faces that ensured a career behind the camera.
My grandfather, around Christmas 1965. He was a good looking fella. That’s a box of Old Spice in the background but I’m sure he’s wearing it IRONICALLY.
Midstate Youth Hockey Association game circa 1972, and the classic end-of-game handshake. My brother and I are on the red team, “Burdick’s Sports Shop.” The handshake is a hockey tradition that says “Sorry I just got done punching you forty times.”
My other grandpa owned a clothing store for 50 years. This never translated into me knowing how to dress.
My Great Aunt Aggie and my Uncle George, late 1960s. George was a bit of a wild child and so was Aggie. She smoked three packs of cigarettes a day and her favorite drink was Coke “with a little something in it.” She lived to be 94 and she is my hero.
My wife’s family on the Atlantic City boardwalk in the ’60s. My wife’s dad is the guy with the pipe and the weird leather jacket, her grandma is in the white fur and beehive and my wife is the girl with the lollypop. I consider this possibly the greatest photo ever taken.
I love hockey. I played ice hockey for my whole child/teenhood and I still play street hockey to this day. I also was in musicals in high school. This is why you see me on the left, about to unleash a monster slapshot while wearing my white Jesus pants from Godspell.
My brother and a bunch of neighborhood playing kickball in the street because it was 1978.
This cute little girl is my wife! That's weird to say.
Me flanked by my cousins Danny and Brian, 1982 or so. Those sons of bitches still have THEIR hair.
My wife’s mom and grandmom sometime in the early ’40s. They came from Germany to Louisiana, which requires a term stronger than “culture shock.”
My brother, sister and I, Halloween. I’m Robin Hood, ladies.
Classic Aunt Aggie.
This is my Aunt Agnes (not to be confused with Great Aunt Aggie). Sometime in the late ’70s she tried getting into meditation, so naturally everyone in our family made fun of her and somebody snuck this picture to goof on. Keep sending out those space signals, hippie!
This is one of my favorites. My grandmother in the middle, my Aunt Mary in back, great aunts around. There’s something about the overall disapproval vibe that makes me understand my Catholic upbringing.
My sister Katie, BRINGING THE WIFFLE THUNDER.
My grandparents. These are the types of gifts you put on after a few beers.
My other grandparents, a painting of their beloved dog Rusty, and a lot of drinks from the 70s.
Since this was possibly (and as it turned out, definitely) the last episode of Men of a Certain Age, I wanted look to the future somehow, so here are my kids in the mid-2000s, essentially giving one of the great wonders of the world the finger.