It’s an old picture of me, May 1993, on a windy day on the beach at Nice.

When I arrived in France in July 1992 I had a crewcut. Nearly a year later my hair had gone uncut—because my French wasn’t good enough to tell a barber how I wanted it done. Nuts!

About the stubble there’s no excuse, just that I used to be lazy about shaving.

04 Oct 2002