I’m a mid-era Boomer living in proverbial suburban splendor outside NYC. Raised in multiple boroughs, I, along with my darling wife migrated to Long Island to spawn amidst grass and trees and experience how the “other half” lives. We’ve been married almost forever and have been in our joint opinion, happy and reasonably successful in raising two outstanding kids currently raising their (so far) outstanding kids, keeping the roof over our heads, and having food, clothing and other necessary and utterly unnecessary stuff readily available. We maintain some outward semblance of sanity, though possibly theoretical and/or delusional. We’ve gone through 16 cars, 4 cats and 3 dwellings, with other random numerology available upon request should anyone actually give a shit.

I’m nearing the end of a career which has been a safety-precaution-free roller coaster ride that granted me the freedom to come and go and do as I please while providing what we’ve needed, with the price being a heavy impact on my being. No doubt a devil’s bargain and what remains after 40+ years is the question. But it has made me view life in a distinct way…sometimes relatively normal, realistic and comprehensible, but often times not so much.

And there’s a lot of stuff.

Being an unknown has advantages since whatever I think, say or write shouldn’t matter much to anyone beyond my family, a modest but tight circle of friends and assorted stray acquaintances who might pay attention to me. I’m not long-winded and never pontificate about anything that might cause people to walk away from, take a swing at or simply ignore me. I intensely dislike being the focus of attention and muttering under my breath is my preferred method of communication.

I’m just another asshole with a computer and perhaps latent delusional streak that allows me to believe anyone besides those mentioned would care about or be amused by what I have to say. Not that I’m not somewhat intelligent, reasonably well-read and moderately well-informed, but I’m not one to spew my purported genius for the sake of it. I’m the guy behind the curtain or the quiet one in the corner minding my own business, seemingly oblivious and detached, content to be a casual bystander unless asked to contribute. I do have opinions and perspectives, often strong and perhaps odd, and say what I really think, not what someone necessarily wants to hear. I’m never rude or condescending, rarely raise my voice and never force issues or bully anyone. I don’t seek affection or admiration, don’t like to hurt or offend anyone or embarrass myself, and don’t need to build myself up by tearing others down. I rarely play offense but if sufficiently provoked my defense is formidable. I appear pretty well-balanced to the world at large and have been told I have a sense of humor, albeit twisted.

I have a relatively short attention span, but not adult ADD, ADHD or other personality disorder, and tend to lose interest in things that don’t quickly grab me. I hate repeating myself and fully understand paying attention is a two way street. I’m all for engaging but need to get beyond the WhoWhatWhereWhenWhy and have something new or different to add. And if I don’t, I keep my mouth shut. I’m not selfish or being a dick, just honest. I’m not often predictable and do my best not to bore others, but how successful I am ain’t my call.

Everything is fodder for exploration from less obvious, more oblique perspectives, and the older I get the less obvious and more oblique I become, unintentionally without premeditation. Many things just don’t make sense to me, and slowly shaking my head from side to side while staring at my feet or the ceiling has become a regular activity. I sometimes feel like I’m mentally wandering around, a character in my own life, which is neither a cornucopia of continuous laugh riots nor deathly dull….I’m just an average guy with the typical trappings of moderate material but substantial personal success with a brain that’s become more loosely-wired as the hits to the head, from others as well as self-inflicted, take their toll. And the snack-pack of mental debris clinging to those stretched-out synapses constantly exerts pressure to find an escape route for my thoughts and words before they fade into oblivion or I lose my mind altogether. It’s become a race and I’m not quite sure how I’m doing, but right now just being another asshole with a computer is all I got.

And this is the result.