And just who might I be?

Charles Courtlandt Chesterfield IV. Yankedoodle Dandy. Trust Fund Baby, Trouble Instigator. All around fun-loving agitator.

There has been a Chesterfield in this country since it was properly stolen from the very first indigenous populace to stand in the way of progress well over 300 years ago. As such, my world view on American peculiarties is as well honed as my ability to determine whether my Grey Goose martini has in fact been made with Grey Goose or some imposter vodka. (Like Absolut. Fucking Swedes.)

I was born on April Fools Day 1974 in international waters off the coast of the US Virgin Islands. I did show up early. What my mother was doing sailing eight and a half months pregnant you would have to ask her. Which you can't, since she's dead.

Luckily for me, I was boarded at Eaglebrook in 1986 when my parent's yacht, the “Abigail Adams” capsized and sunk during a storm somewhere off the Cape Horn near the Tierra del Fuego. My older brother Geoff wasn’t so fortunate. However…the family fortune came my way exclusively so I had that going for me. Which is nice.

The great thing about boarding school is that you have the old “in loco parentis”thing. Who needs nurturers when you have books, lacrosse and booze. That’s how I saw it at least. I saw my fair share of schools. Eaglebrook into Deerfield. Kicked out for drinking. Deerfield to Andover. Kicked out for smoking. Andover to Choate, class of 1992. The only reason they took me was the trust officer donating a new wing for the library. A mind is a terrible thing.

College was a blur. There was lots of drinking. Only reason I went was I couldn’t access the trust until I graduated, which finally happened after 6 years. I took a year abroad without telling anyone, if you catch my drift. Somehow a BA in Philosphy was achieved but I don’t remember what my thesis was about. Something about Locke. Or Hegel. Well, whoever it was. I won’t cite the school out of fear that they’ll recind the degree but it was an Ivy. And it has a Chesterfield Chair of Philosophy now.

I’ve had my share of adventures in the last eight years. Adventures I will share with you dear readers in this very forum. There will be plenty of dipsomania fueled tales of misbehavior coming your way, just as soon as I can paste together the foggier details.

Remember my motto: