More Than You Ever Wanted to Know About "SkyFey"

I dunno . . . you may not be tired of reading standard bio-resumes, but I sure am!

This page is my answer to Corporate America's fixation on uniformity. It's also my way of inviting you to know what really drives me - and it ain't The Usual! Ready or not, here we go . . . 

I was brought up by Ozzie and Harriet. (Okay, Sylvia and Bob.) My father was an engineer's engineer (though he worked in full office drag because he ended up a very successful executive in a multinational company). My mother was a Wellesley grad who was equally comfortable with royalty (having danced with the heir to the Spanish throne while she was an exchange student in Madrid during her junior year) and mere mortals (one of her favorite human beings was the Japanese gardener who tended the roses she would allow no one else to touch). Both parents had a wild streak, my father having bought his first airplane when he was still a very young man and my mother having been an enthusiastic student of life, learning to fly, hunt, camp, and do all sorts of other Things Antithetical To The Typical "Wellesley Guhl."

My older sister, younger brother, and I lived a comfortable, protected life in a suburb of Chicago with our dog, Nibs, and assorted less durable pets (three white rats, a wild mole, the occasional Easter goldfish, and a few cages of chinchillas that I once babysat for a friend). Some of my favorite childhood activities included horseback riding, ice skating, swimming, reading, camping, writing, and daydreaming in trees. Since our parents were active in community theater, my sibs and I also ended up in one show or another at the University Club Playhouse.

The first hint of my eventual career emerged during this pre-adolescent period when, as a mere 7th-grader, I was published in my school's newspaper. I'd been writing steadily since I learned how, and now I was finding that - just by doing what came as naturally and necessarily to me as breathing - Fame could be mine! (Little did I know that I'd have miles to go before "Being Published" equated with "Making a Living.")

When I was 15, the family moved to the hills of Oakland, California, where I finished high school. My favorite hobby during this period was laughing, which interfered with school to such an extent that I was admitted to college solely on the strength of my PSAT scores.

During an off-and-on college career (much more off than on), I majored in English and mechanical engineering - in spite of knowing even then that I did NOT want to be a teacher or an engineer. I just happen to love language and trying to figure out What Makes Things Work. (My retirement wish is to complete a Ph.D. in linguistics and computer science at MIT.)

After leaving school, I lived in Germany for a time. While there, I caught (what else??!) German measles and adopted a (what else??!) German shepherd. I eventually returned to the U.S., took up motorcycling and skiing, and did an assortment of odd jobs to keep peanut butter on my crackers.

How odd? Well, consider: log-bucker in a sawmill, ski instructor, horse wrangler, go-go dancer (move over, Steinem, I did it first), and a number of less interesting gigs. Eventually I started selling some bits of reportage to some [very small] newspapers, thus adding Real Writing Money to my little revenue stream. Life was suddenly AWESOME! (Ahem. Little did I know that I'd have miles to go before 'Being Published' equated with 'Making a Living.' Slow learner.)

Did I mention that along the way, I had been both married and un (and discovered I'm better at un)? I became the mother of two beautiful girls, and I've been adopted by two other beautiful girls, so my immediate family now includes four beautiful women as well as my formerly-male cat, Peekaboo. The cat lives with me; the women (all being considerably smarter than cats) live elsewhere.

A Light Has Left Our World
Cynthia Lee Nesler
March 11, 1966 - March 13, 2002

During this [ostensibly] post-adolescent period, I lived and/or worked in places ranging from a little farming town in Iowa to The City (San Francisco to anyone who hasn't lived thereabouts), as well as The People's Republic of Cambridge (the one on the left side of The Pond, in Massachusetts, U.S.A.) and a little farming town in California. During a stint in the Gold Rush town of Columbia, California, I learned to hunt, fly, and two-step, and I still love dancin' country style. I also enjoy the waltz and foxtrot, jitterbug, line dancing, and rockin' out - though when I think I'm really gettin' down and boogyin' cool, Younger Daughter says I just look like Axel Rose with a hangover. Bummer.

Moving on from freelancing (and finally getting cereal about my career), I was the founding editor and publisher of an aviation trade magazine; was the founding publisher of a programming magazine at Borland during the era when that was Absolutely The Coolest Place To Be in the Computer Universe; was an editor at PCWeek at a time when they used sticky notes to build editorial calendars (I showed 'em that a relational database does it better); and corporately speaking was most recently the Director of Internet Content Services at the late and heartily lamented Ziff-Davis/AT&T Interchange Online Network. I'm now back on my own, consulting on e-business strategic planning and cross-media communications.

(About 25 years of my career are telescoped into that one paragraph - but if you wanted to read the serious details, you'd be reading my corporate bio, wouldn't you?!)

I still enjoy the great outdoors, but gave up killing Bambi and Thumper eons ago. I no longer ski, but one of these daze I really want to get into snowshoeing. I'm a "chain reader" (thank you, critic Edward Davidson, for that nicely-turned phrase) who can be equally contented with the ancient Greek philosophers or a fresh copy of MIT's Technology Review, and Atticus Finch coexists happily with Gandalf the Gray on my bookshelves.

I adore travel, and I like grubbing in a local dive just as much as dining in elegance at Le Petit Pier on the shore of Lake Tahoe. (The owner of that fine restaurant once brought a table-full of us a post-prandial humidor full of exotic cigars - and this was in the late '70s, long before cigars became trendy.) I like to cook, when I have time. (Ask me about my green peppercorn duck; it's to die for.) Jeans and a sweatshirt are still my gear of choice, but I'll don a killer dress and full war paint if Champagne is involved. (Champagne in the nude is actually even better, but we won't go there . . . )

I'm a cancer victor, "clean" since 1990. I've also had One Great Love of My Life, a soulmate. He died suddenly. Make the most of every moment you have with the ones you love.

I was sucked into technology by my first computer, taught myself assembler because I wanted to know What Made It Work. I started using the Internet when it was still ARPAnet, and would probably bleed to death if my fingers were disconnected from a keyboard for more than 24 hours.

I'm now a Certified Grownup, but I'm still startled when I walk past a store window and unexpectedly catch my reflection. (Who is that middle-aged woman and why is she following me so closely?!) I've enjoyed a challenging, successful career . . . power-washed my hair under a waterfall in the high Sierras . . . roller-skated with my daughter . . . beat the clock in a bull-riding contest . . . levered abalone off undersea rocks, cooked it over a campfire, and eaten it sitting on a bluff overlooking the Pacific at sunset . . . flown a Super Cub to Alaska . . . picnicked on the banks of the Danube with a friend who spoke no English, while I was still very awkward in Deutsche . . . listened to the Boston Pops' spirited rendition of the "1812 Overture" as fireworks lit the night sky over the Charles River in Boston . . . hit mach 2 aboard a Concorde . . . skinny-dipped with my mother . . . carefully cradled in my hands the oldest skull in Harvard's Peabody Museum collection . . . watched the Joffrey Rock Ballet corps disarm an uneasy audience with their breathtakingly beautiful exploration of human sexuality (danced to the music of Prince, and isn't it nice we can say his name again now?) . . . skiied from the top of a 13,000-foot peak . . . caught a nine-foot sailfish and gone scuba diving along a coral reef in Acapulco . . . landed at SFO airport in the cockpit of a 747 . . . watched my children and the children of my siblings grow up . . . Could any life of just six decades and change be richer than that?

I've been broke and I've been flush, but either way, my friendships with people around the globe are still what keep me warm on bitter days. Our parents are long gone, but my sister and brother and their families remain the compass rose of my heart. Santa Fe is the one place in the world that makes my heart sing and gives wings to my soul, but I have yet to visit Edinburgh, St. Petersburg, Cape Town, Dubai, and the Australian Outback . . . it would be fun to get fluent in Spanish . . . I hanker to try hang gliding . . . finishing and finding a publisher for a Work of Fiction would be nice . . . and there are dear friends I haven't yet met, hugs to be given and received, books to be read, and computer programs to explore. Perhaps best of all, I'm now a GRANDMOTHER!

Life is enchanting, hard, and endlessly interesting. I wonder what's next, "here" or wherever.

Some day I might add a guest book and some talk-back to this page, but in the meantime, please know that your trek here has been noted (doesn't that make you paranoid?!!) and appreciated.

Now: Go write your own Real Story and share it with the world. (There's an Internet saying that you should never post anything on the 'Net that you wouldn't want attached to your resume. Well, you wouldn't want to work with anybody who doesn't appreciate the fullness of you, would you? Go for it.)

And if you find my Jimi Hendrix "Axis: Bold As Love" album - send it back!

Your sister in the spirit of exploration for all - SkyFey