Even Zombie Huntresses have to come from someplace. Submitted for your approval... my roots - and a few stems, and probably a seed or two.
Family page 1. The family you're born with.
Like most Zombie Huntresses, I was by nature a wanderer. Still, families are important. You never know when you'll need a kidney or something.
It all started with this handsome guy here. It's my father, of course, back when he was about 18 or 19 and had just finished basic training. He died long before I was old enough to remember him, but I see those eyes in the mirror every day. And that killer smile. Or is that a zombie killer smile?
Meanwhile, just down the road a young lady was living... I think she actually took this picture of her mother, her brother and her daughter, who were later the grandmother, sister Roberta and Uncle Bob of the Zombie Huntress. I never got to know my Gram, she got sick when I was little and passed away when I was eight, but Roberta loved her very much. That's good enough for me, my sister is an excellent judge of character.
Of course, even the beginnings have their beginnings. This is my mother's father, in uniform in 1918.
It's my parents and it's their wedding day, so why the black clothes and the long faces? Was there some zombie slayage going on that nobody has told the Huntress about? I don't see any chainsaws, but maybe they hid them when the cameras came out.
All right guys, you're cutting your wedding cake now, so can you crack a smile already? I mean, the zombies have been defeated and there's cake! It looks good, too! Don't suppose you could freeze some for that little Huntress you're gonna have in a few years, huh? She's gonna like cake, I guarantee it.
My parents have been appraised that the Zombie Huntress is on her way. Naturally, faced with such joyous news, they are frowning.
This would explain the frowns. Like most parents of Zombie Huntresses, they possessed the gift of prophesy. What a spectacularly homely child the Zombie Huntress was. Not. Another. Word.
Time is not helping, nor is a return to the black-and-white universe. The future Zombie Huntress is pictured here with older sister Dottie and Sharky the Wonder Dog.
A family portrait at Easter. My father passed away several years before this picture was taken. Shown are my mother, middle sister Dottie, eldest sister Roberta, and the future Zombie Huntress. I seem to have misplaced my comb.
Dottie passed away in 1987. She was 32. This was her high school picture. Unlike her younger sister, she rarely misplaced her comb.
Roberta married her high school sweetheart Bill in 1967. This shot was taken when they visited me in New York, a decade or two later.
The Zombie Huntress becomes an Aunt. Chris was born in 1973. Yeah, he's old now, too
Oh baby, do I gots cousins! Barbie, Bev, Bernadette, Susan, Kimm, Roberta and Elaine. I am, of course, the youngest.
Oh, those wild and crazy cousins. We all have that killer smile. Bernadette, Susan, Barbie and Kimm, the four first cousins of the Apocalypse. More likely, the four first cousins who bring about the apocalypse.
The Zombie Huntress and her cousin Larry. We were probably meant to be siblings, but we got misplaced somehow.
Larry's wife Sue. She and I once defied death on the Coney Island Wonder Wheel and she never minds sharing her husband with his eccentric Zombie Huntress of a cousin. Just like I think her hubby should have been my brother, she should have been my sister-in-law, we all just got misplaced somewhere along the line.
We look so angelic, don't we? Hard to believe what happened to that Redi-whip shortly after this picture was taken. Hint: Susan got the worst of it. Kimm, Bernadette and Susan. Plotting.
Every kid on the hill called my Uncle Bob "Uncle Bob". He was a gifted painter, wood carver and carpenter. He liked movies, family gatherings, good conversation and a good joke. He also was a real dog person, but I forgive him that slight lapse of taste.
My mother and her brothers, Uncle Bob and Uncle Bill. Uncle Bill was a gruff and growly guy with a heart of gold. He taught the Zombie Huntress and both of her sisters to drive. Being an ex-cop, he taught me to drive very, um, expediently.
Uncle Bill in uniform with my sister Roberta a few years before the Zombie Huntress was born. He was a motorcycle cop, of course. And they used to wonder where I get it.
Ok, so Uncle Bill wasn't necessarily the type of guy who rode sedately along on his motorcycle discussing helmet laws and safe biking practices. Well, ok he was. Most of the time. But he had those Zombie Huntin' genes, sure enough! Not that he EVER did THIS while the bike was in MOTION! Oh no, I'm certain he wouldn't do THAT!
Uncle Bill's wife Louise is a warm and wonderful person with a razor-sharp wit and a kickass sense of humor. Generous and unfailingly kind, she is always calm and cool no matter how theatrical the hysterics surrounding her become. Had she chosen to become a Zombie Huntress instead of a nurse, her slayage skills would have been second to none. Here in 1962, she watches the future Zombie Huntress prepare to ride into battle, mounted on my trusy rocking something or other. Dottie, behind me, is being more grown-up and ladylike.
The next generation comes of age. My nephew Chris (Roberta's kid) and Larry's daughter Pamela. I'm not old enough for the kids to be this big! Make 'em go back to grade school!!!
On to the branches!
Page 2, the friends that become family.
Family can be defined as the ties that bind you. Blood ties are strong, but so are those of friendship.
The first time I ever met Marie she made me cry. Well over a decade later, she still does, but it's only because I miss her so much. My friend, my partner in cat insanity, my fellow cheese fry addict, Marie is one of the people I love most in the world. Here we are at the New York Ren Faire, about to get Medieval on some unsuspecting sno-cones.
This picture gave me a really hard time, and I still might move it up to the first section. I've known LaVerne my whole life. Their family moved in next to ours when I was three or four years old, and my sisters and I grew up with her four kids. I've called her "Aunt" ever since I can remember, and when I think of coming home, I think of coming home to her as much as coming home to my mother and cousins. She and her family are my family, in every way that can possibly matter. Her first husband Joe passed away years ago, she has since re-married and second husband John is a sweetheart.
When Mike and I actually set a date, my friend Liz surprised me with a bridal shower. There was cake and there was punch and there was much picture-taking and laughter. Maybe there were a few tears, too. It was one of the sweetest things anybody ever did for me. Here we are, punch drunk, as it were.
Nothing ever intimidated Tammie and I, not marauding zombies or looming Imperial Walkers. We spent three years working together at the Plant Lady, my title was General Manager and hers was Advertising Director. We called ourselves General Damager and Flier Bitch, and together we got the job done with inimitible style and clever euphemisms, whilst wreaking havoc on the walking dead and any straggling oil cans of Foster's. Sombody's gotta keep that Aussie beer in line, mate!
We live in an age where technology makes miracles commonplace. I met Thomas more than a decade ago while playing an online adventure game. Since we slew our first ferocious foe together we have been fast friends. Although we've both moved on to other things, I'll never forget charging bravely into battle at his side - and laying there dead as our opponents stomped our poor virtual carcasses into their poor virtual components.
Dan was a unique and incredible individual. He was a gifted writer, compassionate pastor, cunning gamer, freelance philosopher and just all-around good people. I met him - where else - playing games online. It's a very small world, when Mike finally got that job offer that wasn't in a big city it turned out to be in the same little town that Dan lived in. The summer after Mike and I moved here, cancer took Dan's life. Since then, I've been lucky enough to become friends with his wife, Stephanie. She's an extraordinary person and a constant inspiration to me. She's done an amazing job carrying on Dan's popular blog, Popping Culture http://www.danielchampion.com/. Give it a read!
What do you say about a friend who listens when you call for help, keeps your secrets and doesn't presume to judge? Alan is man of deep commitment to his faith and his family. He and I have these endless theological and political discussions, and we never quite see eye-to-eye. I hope he has as much fun with our skull banging sessions as I do. Alan has an amazingly corny sense of humor and is not really a cat person, but... I forgive him.
Berni and I met in our first week of tech school and, as the two over-30's in the class, clicked instantly. She taught me how to take everything seriously, I taught her how to take nothing seriously. Between the two extremes, we managed to get through school together and we've celebrated each others triumphs (her career) and tragedies (my career). Thanks to her I got the zoo tech position, thanks to me she got academic probation - and a lifetime of protection from marauding zombies!
Jim is good people. He is funny, interesting, genuine and caring. He always tries his hardest to figure out what the right thing is and then get it done. He helped me to learn to appreciate birds and to handle them without breakage, not an easy feat when one is used to chopping up marauding zombies! He used to stop by the clinic to ask about one or two minor animal concerns and we'd end up talking for a couple of hours. The time would just fly by, he was that interesting a conversationalist. When he retired I missed him and our chats terribly, the zoo was colder and much emptier without him there. Jim and I got to know and trust each other very well over ten years of working together and I cherished both the working relationship and the friendship that grew out of that. Here he is with one of his fine feathered friends, a barn owl if I'm not mistaken. If I am, I'm sure somebody will correct me very quickly.
Gads, I love this picture of Pam! Pregnant out to there, wearing a Plato's shirt and puffing on a joint. Can anybody possibly get more politically incorrect than that? Pam and I were friends during the wildest and craziest year of my life, when I was 20 years old and absolutely nothing was out of reach. Little jail in Arkansas escapade aside, that summer will always be the greatest time I can't actually remember.
My best friend in that "after leaving home and before meeting Mike" period of my life was a guy named Norman. Writer, photographer, artist and all-around Renissance guy, Norman introduced me to Kung-Fu movies and the concept of actually cooking food. I always liked this self-portrait he spilled chemicals on, to me it just sort of summed up Normie and his "yeah, whatevah" attitude.
Van. Funny, sweet, irresponsible, outrageous and unexpectedly kind and chivalrous. I always wavered between hugging him and delivering a good swift kick to the shin. Van and a very young Zombie Huntress did an amazing amount of club crawling together, and exchanged far too many "Hey what in the WORLD did we do last night?" phone calls. Van was famous for being perpetually 2 hours behind schedule. He was the first man I ever met who lied about his age, at all of 20 years old I found that hysterically funny.
This is my good friend Keith, who I also met through the miracle of technology and online gaming. We used to live a couple of hours away from each other and visit fairly frequently, now that I'm out here in Ohio I find myself missing him terribly. Keith recently wed his longtime partner Jeanine and moved into their new house, so I should hopefully be seeing him soon for one helluva good party. With cake.
This is Susie. What can I say about Susie? Once I got violently sick and she came over to feed and clean up after 65 cats I was fostering because I was too ill to move. Once she got bit by a dog and was afraid to report it so I sewed her hand up in the treatment room at the animal shelter. Once I smashed my hand in the garage door and she got out of bed to come bring me pain pills. When her father died I kept vigil at the hospital with her and her mom. Susie is an amazing and special person, with a heart so huge it dwarfs even the monstrous ego of the Zombie Huntress.
Pete is truly a lovely soul. He is always quick with a helping hand or a kind word, and he never failed to make the Zombie Huntress feel welcome, even in the big scary Bronx Zoo Health Center. Here he is with Mike harmonizing, doubtless to 'Cherokee People'. For some reason that I believe revolves around driving the Zombie Huntress to the brink of insanity the two of them sing that particular tune whenever they find themselves in the same social situation.
Linda and I were best friends from seventh grade all through high school and beyond. We were literally the long and the short of it. She topped out around five feet, I reached six feet. She had a mom and four sisters, all of whom were about five feet tall as well. I loved being part of their family, even if I was the butt of every tall joke, and there were plenty of tall jokes. But when the zombies came, all were glad the Huntress was there!
How amazing are the friendships you form as a kid? In the same day you can run away together, get grounded together, never speak to each other again, make up, go into business together and a thousand and one other things. This was taken in 1970, so I'm not quite 12 here. I'm in back holding our dog Silky, standing next to John and Dale. In front of me is Donna, Mary Beth putting her best face forward, and David.
Eventually, even a Zombie Huntress comes full circle and puts down some roots of her own.
Page 3, the family that finds you.
Who was looking for love? I wanted good times with a fun guy, preferably a lot of good times with a lot of fun guys. Love didn't wait for the Zombie Huntress to issue an invitation, it snuck up and clobbered her a good one.
Best battle I ever lost.
The Handsome Mike and the Zombie Huntress go on a first date. He took me to an amusement park, and brought his friend Alan along to ride the roller coasters with me. Turns out Mike has this thing about high places. We did cram into a photo booth and get a Polaroid for posterity.
As the years have gone by, it's become harder and harder to get Mike to hold still for a picture. And I don't think I ever got him to put on shorts again.
Even in our younger days, Mike was the respectable and reasonable one, a nice balance for the Zombie Huntress. He had shirts with buttons on them. Buttons that closed the shirt, and did not feature funny, radical or obscene sayings! Can you imagine such a thing? I'll share a secret here, too. He also owned a large selection of neckties. No, really, he did!
Mike even has a real career! Who could have ever imagined such a thing, back in our wild and misspent younger years. Of course he did get a job in the fireworks industry, the brother profession to zombie slayage.
After three years of co-habitation, we finally decided to go for the tax break. We made it legal wayyyyyyy back in 1984. Yes, that was actually a year and not just a prophetic novel about Republican politics. Mike took me to Disneyland for our honeymoon. I fell in love all over again.
We spent over 20 years in New York City. It wasn't all bad. Here we are in Union Square, looking dangerous and urban. Ohhhh, scary!
We love vacationing together, especially driving trips out west. Give us a decent book on tape and some desert scenery and you have all the elements necessary for the perfect vacation. Nothing like losing your shoes and lounging back in the front seat with my feet out the window enjoying a story together while wide open spaces present themselves for our viewing pleasure.
Of course, there is also stopping the car and getting out for a closer look if something piques our interest. Or kissing the ground after driving up a vertical cliff face. Not that we've ever done that. Well maybe once. But we did it in a Caddy, at least. If you're gonna slide off the road and plunge thousands of feet to your doom, you gotta do it in style. Luckily we made it to the top, which is just as well, since there were no zombies at the base of the cliff to cushion our fall.
Of course, even the most barren wasteland boasts the occasional oasis. Viva Lost Wages! Mike and I love vacationing in Vegas. He likes the casinos. I like the tattoo parlors. It's a race, will we run out of money before I run out of skin? Since Mike is more conservative with his gambling than I am with my inking this promises to be a close race.
No, we don't just go zombie hunting out west. See? Beach! California beach, but still it's a prime example of beachiness. Also true that Mike doesn't seem to be dressed in a very beachy manner, but we were expecting zombies. One can't just wave a bottle of sun block at a rampaging zombie and expect it to leave, one needs equipment!
Love is everything the storybooks say it is. Marvelous, fantistical and utterly wonderful. After a quarter of a century, it's still pretty damned fun, too.
With new roots come a whole new set of branches.
You guessed it... In-laws! Luckily mine are pretty cool. What else is to be expected? After all, look at the son they raised!
This was taken at middle brother Dean's wedding. Dean - the groom, Rhoda - mother of the groom, eldest brother Mike - usher, Marty - father of the groom and youngest brother Kenny - best man.
The clan isn't all about formal affairs. Here the menfolk get together for some male bonding, and to decimate the fish population in Long Island Sound. Dad Marty, Dean's son Jake, Dean, Kenny and the Handsome Mike.
Mike's brother Dean and wife Audrey do some lounging at the Ren Faire.
Rosie, Dean and Audrey's daughter, shows us her best princess smile.
Brother Kenny has kids, too. These are his boys Travis and younger brother Dustin.
Kenny's wife Diane, as always, has her hands full. Wait, is that left hand not full? Oh, ok, she's reaching for something. Never mind!
This is Dean's whole family at a wedding where Rosie stole the show as flower girl. The trouble with Rosie and show stealing is that it's just too easy for her.
Dustin is big into bugs, so for Halloween mom Diane fixed him up real good. Dustin was buggin' all right.
The Handsome Mike and his nephew Jake share a very special bond. Here they are at the Ren Faire, about to win a gold sticker in the Dragon Slayer Test of Strength. Mike drove around with that sticker in his car until it disintegrated. The car, that is. Towards the end, the sticker was pretty much holding the dashboard together.
Mike is nothing if not an Equal Opportunity Uncle. Here he shows Rosie the finer points of sledgehammer usage. After all, a princess has to know these things, right? Don't worry, the Zombie Huntress bonded with Rosie as well. I told her this thing about guys and knees...
The Handsome Mike and the Zombie Huntress shown here holding nephews Travis and Dustin. Yes, that is the Huntress being drooled upon by something that is unfurred, un-tailed and will probably never use a litter pan. Notice the fixed expression of terror upon my face. I present this photo in the interests of full disclosure and to forestall future blackmail attempts. This was taken when we visited Kenny and Diane in North Carolina shortly after Dustin was born.