John is a man who cannot be killed, although can be maimed quite easily. He joined The Extra Unordinary podcast on our second episode, mother!, and has been a loyal part of our collective ever since. A Sci-Fi fanboy and a story-teller, John captivates the audience with his personal stories that are about anything from Star Trek to Home Improvement to almost dying several times. When not working around the house or tending to a fire in hit backyard pit, he can be found watching TV with his dog Willow and his cat Oz and probably eating something covered in cheese. He is inspired by kindness and compassion, and co-hosts The Extra Unordinary because he loves "delving into things, finding the little details of peoples work. Calling out those bits that show a true understanding of a subject, or tiny references.  Even just talking about it can deepen your understanding of a piece of work. Regardless of whether the work was good or bad, that understanding can give you a little meaning into life."

"I have this friend who’s been a good and loyal friend since college.  We went through hell, supported each other emotionally, I kept trying to steel her chair cushions, commiserate about weird roommates, and built circuits together.  I’d take a bullet for this lady, and it’s in part thanks to the biggest “Told you so” of my life that she had the kindness to never drop on me.   We were studying late and a huge storm kicked up.   I was tired and absolutely done with looking at circuits class, but she was lingering around anyways. I asked if it was because of the storm, and she made it clear she didn’t want to get hit by lightning.  She lived two houses down- maybe 300 feet- so, of course I made fun of her. Cracked jokes, told her the odds of getting hit to poke at her, and then offered to just get my car and driver her to her buildings overpass cause I’m not actually a dick.   Whelp, on the way to my car, lightning came down, hit a transformer, bounced off and nailed me in the arm.  Shot out my hand, either through the car door or the pouring rain.   I come back into the apartment, holding my arm, and she clearly heard the lighting strike and put two and two together.  “…did you get hit?”  “….just… please get in the car” “yep, OK.”    Bless her soul, she had all the reason in the world to tell me “I told you so”, and never said it once."