The first room you see when you enter Ross Stockdale’s house is the living room. It’s furnished like any other living room, complete with a desk, three couches, and plenty of books. The couches are centered around a small square coffee table with a chess board on top. About half of the pieces are tipped over, the whole setup in front of a small mantle and fireplace.
The desk is home to Ross’s computer, which he affectionately calls his office, just at the base of the stairs. There’s a dining room, a nice kitchen, and a shockingly handsome cat named Hal. Seriously – he’s the size of a basset hound.
But with all of the things this house has, there’s one surprising thing that’s missing. Or at least it would be missing, if it was important to be present.
Sure – there’s a computer and a few monitors. But there’s no television. There are places to gather and books to read and games to play and pets to… pet. But there’s no television.
As I leafed through a shelf of old paperbacks, I understood why. James Joyce. Ayn Rand. James Stockdale. With this many good books, who needs TV?
That was just the beginning, though. As Ross and I talked, I caught a glimpse of a man who is undoubtedly well-read. Pragmatic, driven, disciplined, determined, and a little bit nerdy — everyone should get a chance to meet Ross in person.
That’s why he’s the first subject of the Gents’ new podcast: Lancaster Limelight.
Lancaster, meet Ross Stockdale.
