by Ric Carter 

Welcome to the home of Big Ric Carter, vicious perpetrator of this site. Well, it's not really my home page, but the picture (to the right) is nice. Emblematic. Indicative. Grainy, murky, staged.

Here are some pictures and texts about meself, for those of you who're dying to know -- more to be added as I get around to it. And who knows what lies may intrude here? (For a partial answer to that last question, take a close look at entries on my GO! page and judge for yerself.)

OK, so I haven't gotten around to doing my autobiography / memoirs / confession yet. Whenever. So sue me. Meanwhile there ARE some pages of people important to me: Barb Hambly and Harry Oliver and, well me and my music and... well, that's about it, everything and everybody else is irrelevant. Except you, of course.

OK, brief autobiography: "I started out as a child. That was awhile back. Now is now. Someday I'll die, probably." That's the overview. What, ya want more? OK, here's a chronological structural breakdown:

1949: Conceived in Pismo Beach, born in Pomona California.
1951: A good knock on the head rendered me quite sensible.
1954-64: Educated & socialized somewhat in & near Pomona.
1964-66: Educated somewhat more in Montclair, Chino, et al.
1966-68: Hitchhiked: Los Angeles, New York, San Francisco.
1969-74: Loitered: Hollywierd, San Narcisco, Mendocino.
1974-76: Enlisted in Army, defended post-Nam US in Kansas.
1976-78: Educated somewhat more in 29 Palms & Santa Cruz.
1978-79: Moved to Sonoma County; nice year near Petaluma.
1979-89: Ten increasingly awful burb years in Rohnert Park.
1989-2001: Many quite pleasant years in Forestville hilltop.
2002-03: Temporarily in Santa Rosa, then Volcano, California.
Next: Continent-wide, world-wide, galaxy-wide. Traveling, yup.

Of course, this tells you precisely nothing. Perhaps that's all for the best. I've considered writing my life story, have even started drafting a brief account (for someone who doesn't want to know). But considering that few if any of you give a shit, maybe I just won't bother. It's usually not attractive to obsessively chronicle one's past, not unless one is a celebrity whose life has already been marketed, which I ain't. So why bother? [zzzzzz.....]

Searching for me online: If you see my name in stories or pages online about Tonya Harding, wrestling, the X-Files, muzzleloaders, Macintoshes, football, Master Masons, or tapdance, it's probably somebody else.

On the other hand, you could be surprised. I could pop up in the most unexpected places. I could walk past you on the street. I could be looking at you around any corner, through any window, over any fence. My face and/or voice may wing past you on the airwaves. I could be the voice in your head. Beware.

But analyzing my name gives surprising results. See Ric (Richard Norman) Carter and decide for yourself.

July 2002: A request has arrived; someone wants to know more about me, and whether I've published offline. My past? Spotty:

•   Origins: I was born in Pomona (Drag City) California, at the same hospital where my Mom later worked as a nurse, and just down the road from where Dad and my sisters were born. Other homeboys include Ignacio Palomares and Walter Knott and John Cage and Frank Zappa and Eldridge Cleaver and Korla Pandit; and Mark McGwire and Tom Waits (same hospital, 23 days later) and whatzername from DARK ANGEL, err... oh yeah, Jessica Alba.
•   Growth: I was nurtured as a middle-class suburban-LA honkyboy in the Eisenhower-Kennedy-BeachBoys years. Dad (raised Quaker) taught me about photography, electronics and model railroads. Mom (raised Methodist) taught me about sanitation. Local kids taught me about the usual unsavory kid-stuff. I never had my own car; I transported myself by bicycle, then skateboard, then motorbike, then thumb.
•   I was bright but rebellious, AND VERY TALL (6'5"), and it wasn't until I'd gone thru various harrowing life experiences that I managed to 1) finish high school, 2) join the Army (Vietnam-era), and 3) learn to focus somewhat. It's been all uphill since then. Or whatever.
•   You may see me associated with icons of Ganesh a.k.a. Ganesha due to my Ganesha-Pomona connexion. The park, the hills, but not the school, are somehow intertwined with me. Like wow, man...
•   Career moves: door-to-door sales (XMas cards, photo packages, other scams); XMas tree peddler; streetcorner busker & wand'ring minstrel; poet; panhandler / street freak (LA, NYC, SF); preacher; wino / doper; propagandist; welfare recipient; broadcast engineer; underground publications sales & distribution; day labor (NYC, SF); junkmail delivery (SF Bay Area); bicycle messenger (SF); factory work (upstate NY); dulcimer maker; radioman & photographer (US Army); military medic & ambulance EMT; botanical field researcher; guitar teacher; thief; data clerk; commercial librarian; computer programmer / analyst; small systems consultant; computer sales; game designer; lout; journalist / editor; webmonkey; songwriter / composer; landlord.
•   Next moves: travel writer, online merchant, famed photographer, Master Of The Universe.
•   I have no convictions. All charges were dropped. The planted evidence was revealed. They didn't need to call the bomb squad.
•   My personal relationships were/are too messy and/or painful to reveal here. I've done wrong & right; I've been wronged & righted; we're no angels. Naming names will benefit nobody. The only perfection is in death, and I ain't there yet, no matter how tempting it may be. Hell is other people, but they're necessary. Bother.
  PS: My biological daughter had a masquerade wedding on Hollowe'en 2002.
•   Obsessions: variously, Slot Cars; women, photography; musics: acoustic, world, electronic, loud, quiet; trains; desert botany; electronics; rebumbent bicycles; ethnic arts / crafts; forests; skepticism & UFOs & paranormal bullshit; math; SciFi & comix; women; iconography; truth / lies; radio; radical politics; peace; unconsciousness; death; artificial intelligence & life (AI/AL); faith / atheism; hallucinations; chickens; books; canoes; women; fabrics; air & water; Desert Rat-ism.
•   I've started writing memoirs. See them here if you have nothing better to do.
•   Despite reading several books and numerous articles on page layout and webpage design, I still insist on creating dense, thick, text-laden pages like this one. So sue me.
•   To be continued...

My early publications include:

•   Various pieces on mysticism & music in 1967-68 San Francisco underground papers. Possibly incoherent.
•   CACTI OF CALIFORNIA: A Keyed Guide (1978, out of print)
•   Financial and game software for those quaint old Sinclair ZX-81 microcomputers (1982, out of print)
•   Some of my recent skeptical rants have been echoed in periodical publications and alternative broadcasts.

All my later publications have been online. Some might be cached. Search, and ye shall find, if so inclined.