Jeremy is a generalist working on computers and on the web out of a vintage camper in his backyard in the Missouri Ozarks.
Jeremy Boles is a software engineer from Springfield, Missouri, USA who works out of an old, beat-up camper in his backyard—it is definitely not a meth lab. While he sometimes fancies himself a writer, truth be told, he is much better at writing code than he is at writing prose. He has been traveling semi-frequently for about six years now and he is just self-involved enough to think that you might want to read about it.
As a long time web citizen, traces of Jeremy’s previous publishing attempts can be found gathering cobwebs and dust in the dark, forgotten parts of the internet. This even includes an embarrassing Christian-ska centric “e-zine” that he published in the late 90s. Fun fact about that: he was once forced to miss a publication because he was grounded from using AOL.
Jeremy started traveling regularly in April of 2012, two months before his daughter was born. In 2013, upon returning from his first trip to Italy, he set a modest, personal goal to leave the United States once a year. So far, he has been able to keep up with that goal, even with the sporadic income that goes along with being self-employed, a family that includes two young children, and the fact that he resides in the middle of the country.
He’d like to acknowledge the fact that website authors are known to complain about having to write their biographies in third-person. He would like you to know that he dislikes doing it too.
Enough with the third-person. I live in a small, old house in the Southwestern-Missouri city of Springfield with my wife Danielle and two children: Claire and Liam. We’re a tight-knit group at home. I type at computers all day in a camper/office in our backyard under the moniker Central Standard while my wife wrangles kids and manages the monies of the business.
I grew up in a suburb of Las Vegas, Nevada called Henderson; a land of strip malls, freeways, slot machines in grocery stories, rocks, and Mormons. I went to college and met my wife in Missouri. After we got married we moved to Colorado for just a few short years. I still think of our time there often. 2009 was a bastard of a year and after it thoroughly kicked our butts we moved back to Missouri and have been living here ever since.
One of the great joys that I get from life is making—and, of course, consuming—food and drink. I took an interest to culinary endeavors shortly after getting married in which I first attempted to make my own bourbon-deglazed barbecue sauce just for the hell of it. This also gave me some initial practice in overcoming my Pentecostal guilt to buy bottles of whiskey, a skill that I still I use to this day. Its not unusual to find a jar or crock of something stinky and fermenting in a kitchen cabinet, or a slab of cured meat hanging from the floor joists in our basement. Through considerable cost and effort, I make the best damn pizza napoletana in all of Springfield—which, admittedly has almost no bar to excel above. I’ll even include my gluten free pizza crust, which I’m forced to make for my wife and son, in with that claim of superiority. Fight me if you think otherwise. I’ve also gotten pretty good at making beer but I seldom find a free Saturday to spend the entire day brewing.
Some other things that I enjoy, in no particular order, are: A pair of well-worn desert boots. An embarrassing fantasy book while sitting next to a lit wood stove. A walk through a soggy forrest with my family. A glass of peaty Scotch. A weathered pair of blue jeans. A rustic Belgian beer that tastes of grass and pepper. A cup of a fruity Ethiopian coffee, brewed by hand. A bottle of Italian wine along side a ripe piece of salami. A scratchy wool sweater. And, most of all, a quiet morning alone.