On or about this time, in the far away time of 1970 i was born.
Its been 38 years since that day, it sounds like a long time. It IS a long time in some ways i suppose.
Sometimes what seems to be a detrimental trait at first later shows itself to be a benefit, in my case I believe that my slow development and determined, if sluggish attempt at mental and spiritual growth has actually helped me. I know lots of folks who have peaked in their twenties, i was, for better or worse, not among them. in fact I really feel like the elevator didnt make its way to the top floor of my head until i was 27 or so!
Its embarassing to recall how bumbling and silly i was through the majority of my twenties. i hung on to my terrible haircuts, shitty music, and atrophied marriage way too long. I worried about what others thought about me too much and it took my brother nearly clubbing me over the brainpan with a tattoomachine to finally understand that tattooing was what i had been meant to do all along. No shit, he practically had to force me into what is, today, one of the greatest things about my life.
The other is Cara, why oh why didnt i find her sooner and ditch my old failed marriage sooner? Well, because the timing wasnt right. Not only do i see now how I didnt even really begin living happily til i was 30, but I also see how many of my ‘mistakes’ ended up making me so lucky these days!Seriously, it almost makes me feel like a kid on christmas morn when some shit gets fucked up in my life these days because I just assume something amazing stemming from it will be just around the corner.
Ive never been afraid of my birthdays, in fact i get a little giddy about it, yes even still. So instead of transformers toys and conan books I get sushi and metamucil, at least I get cake, motherfuckers! I love my birthday, it feels like a small success, ‘Congratulations, you didnt get run over this year!!!”
Did I ever tell you about my theory about getting run over? it seems like 9 times out of 10 when Im walking somewhere and i almost get run over by a car that its a BMW. I mean to frightening degree the cars that almost flatten my fat ass are those German cock-replacements. I dunno if the yupified squeegees who drive those things hate fat tattoo guys or if they just have some design flaw that makes me hard to spot but Ive come uncomfortably close to getting splattered all over their teutonically engineered windshields enough that im a little trailer-park scared of them when i see one pass by. Im convinced that on the day i pass from this mortal coil i will be looking into the glow of a nearly perfectly shaped headlamp as it caves my skull into my clavicals and the last thing I will ever see in the world will be “bavarian motor werks”. . . .
Anyway, my birthday started at midnight with a call and a song from my amazing girlfriend. You may have gotten some great presents in your life, but stuff like that is worth way more to me than anything you can own. There is something so connected with how i feel about the world anymore and I almost feel like my yearly celebration of my being born is really me celebrating how lucky I am to have been born who i am, where i am and in the world that Im in. Im intensely grateful that Im as fortuneate as Ive been just to born into a form that can appreciate all this cool shit around us.
So, happy birthday!