So you want the scratch-pad, animation "flip book" version of my life? From the 1950's box-top vid-kid to a 1980’s extinct jazz hipster in a disco-hippy generation, college educated teacher, artist, musician. I squandered a lifetime trying to do things I wasn't good at. I carved out a realistic/unrealistic life of creativity from lava rock broader horizons and suffered through a reverse mid-life crisis, giving up the girlfriends, sports cars and musician nightlife to unequivocally choose in the new millennium, an off-the-grid, pick-up drivin', chainsaw-wielding lifestyle on the side of a remote Montana mountain. The end. Or the beginning depending on how much water is drunk from the glass. 

And I’ve learned a few things from this stop-action, claymation trip through life. You can lead as many painted Mustang's to water, but you can't make those sons-a-mares drink a lick. That anything and everything can always get worse, and then you can bet your last food stamp dollar it's gonna rain. If you're lucky, you realize life is never just one thing, it's all the things from halcyon beginnings to whimpering end, pressure treated into one quivering lump of being. And you're stuck realizing, it's not what you want that makes you fat, it's what you get.