Yeah. I never thought I would become a Colorado Senator. It's worked out pretty well, Holly and I go back and forth between DC and our house in Boulder...And now you guys want my story. Wow.
I was born in Wilkes-Barre General Hospital in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. I never met my dad, he died at Guadalcanal, which is weird since I wasn't born until 1970.
There's a nice picture of him on our mantel, and I discovered, weirdly, that Dad's shot must've been popular, as they use it as a model to sell picture frames in the Walgreen's in Scranton.
My first stepfather, Henry had a lot of emotions. I haven't seen him since I was six, but he wrote to me after I went to Washington.
Henry retired as an assistant tree surgeon, and has not been near a Pennsylvania elementary school or day care center in almost a year, and was elected head of his support group. That's character, you don't see it much anymore.
Jeff, my second step-dad, was okay, except he liked to kid me about wearing my Pampers Under-Jams. Jeff wanted Mom to send me to a military academy.
After Jeff transitioned to Jessica, he moved out, too. Jessica and Mom still bond, as Amway representatives now.
School? I was energized for success, and they must've liked me because I did summer classes for second, fifth and ninth grades, though I never quite got out of 12th.
Seven years I was at West Scranton High, but I didn't go there quite long enough to graduate.
After high school, I wanted to perform for "Saturday Night Live" and even got a postcard from Martin Short. He didn't remember me, though, when I got to New York.
When I got back to Scranton, Mom had rented my room out to an ex-Army guy who was selling light bulbs to old people over the phone.
Although I had to bunk at the Salvation Army, Gino-that was Mom's tenant's name-got me a job at the bulb selling place, which was in the back of a privately owned Radio Shack.
The callers were supposed to say they were disabled, and that the light bulb sales would put them through trade school, or something.
I couldn't imagine saying I was disabled, but once a woman with her toddler pointed at me in a bus station (when I was still in New York) and said "that's a special person, dear."
I did pretty well at the phone calls, people seemed to buy the bulbs just to get me to hang up. I have a dynamic personality, but maybe it was an acquired taste?
It's funny, though. In the Big Brother program, I had a lot of Big Brothers between stepfathers, but most of the Big Brothers kept dating my mom. Then they got kicked out of the Big Brother program. One of them though, Creed, was kind of a neat guy.
He'd been sent to Big Brothers to do community service, because when they had him washing police cars, for his service sentence, he kept "borrowing" them. Funny, because Creed was being sentenced for Grand Theft Auto.
I ran into Creed after being fired from a Niemen-Marcus stock job, over this silly joke with the mannequins, never mind. Creed was working for a paper company, Dunder-Mifflin, and told me to come by and interview for a warehouse job.
Ed Truck, the regional manager recognized my voice, because I had sold his great-aunt some of the light bulbs, and he almost HIT me, but then he hired me to sell paper!
That's where my life began, as it were. I was at Dunder-Mifflin for nineteen years, the last fifteen of which I was regional manager myself!
I wonder what the others will say about me-the subordinates, whose lives I changed.
My high school buddy Phyllis Lapin, who said she was amazed that after she'd gotten three degrees, the guy who failed out of her senior year would up being her boss. Of course you're amazed, Phyllis, I'm amazing!
Then there was Tom, in accounting, who told me once that he was desperate to get help for his depression, asked would I take money out of the redecorating fund and give us a better health plan?
He didn't know what he'd do without it, but I needed a new desk...and then Tom hung himself. Or shot...Couldn't even figure out where things might wind up.
I know I'd be cheerful if my boss had some decent furniture in his office, and I'd stuck Wacky Packages stickers all over my old desk. I wish I could say I missed Tom, but I can barely remember him.
Todd Packer. My old partner in crime. We started together. Got arrested at Club Risque in Pennsport our third week working together, shooting rubber bands at the dancer's thighs.
Todd's no longer in paper, he's involved in the men's movement, or something, down in Florida.
Jim and Pam...In some cultures, like where Kelly Kapoor, my customer service girl was from, a couple couldn't get together unless they'd been introduced in an arranged marriage. I was happy to arrange that. Jim and Pam, I mean. Not Kelly. She's probably going to be the oldest of old maids.
I have to go vote on a bill. Shelter-belts in Minnesota or something. Otherwise I could really tell you guys some hair-raising stuff!