October 5th, 2023 – my 54th birthday.

This is my thirteenth entry in the series of annual birthday posts. Something I started shortly after I began my writing journey in the fall of 2011. As I sit here now, drinking coffee on this beautiful fall morning, it’s hard to believe that I’m nearly half-way through my fifties.

For me, it feels like it was only yesterday that I was the youthful teenager; driving me and my high school pals around in a beat-up 1973 Toyota, going to the Palmer Mall on Friday nights after school, pouring what seemed like millions of quarters from hard-earned, summer lawn mowing into video game cabinets, drinking gallons of Orange Julius and wishing I could somehow muster the courage to go over and talk to the cute girl who was standing with her friends outside of the Listening Booth record store.

Wasn’t I the one who was able to go to rock concerts and stay up til the wee hours of the morning? Sitting in some dingy diner; smoking cigarettes, eating French fries smothered in imitation cheese sauce and drinking gallons of coffee. Talking to friends about what would it would be like when we took on the world and made all of our dreams came true, or singing ̶h̶o̶r̶r̶i̶f̶i̶c̶ perfect three-part acapella versions of Eagles songs in the parking lot when we finally called it a night. These days, I’m lucky if I can stay up til 10 p.m.

There’s an odd sense of immortality you have when you’re young that makes you believe time will always stand still. One that whispers in your ear and tells you that you’ll never be as old as your parents. But then one day, you take a nap and wake up in their role and realize that time waits for no one. To give you some perspective, my father died twenty-six years ago this month. As of today, I’ve outlived him by three years. My mother died in March of 2020, already more than three years ago. Next year one of the friends who made those coffee and cheese fries runs with me, will have been gone for ten years.

I recently stumbled upon my Easton Area Middle School ID Badge under a pile of knick knacks and memories and immediately recalled the day I first received it back in the fall of 1980. Although I didn’t much care for the fresh-faced, goofy grinning picture of myself on the front, something printed on the back of the now worn, laminated card had really caught my attention.

It was the first time I saw the words “YR GRAD-87” and believed the year of my high school graduation (1987) was so very far away. To this shy, cheesy-grinned eleven-year old boy, seven years seemed like an eternity, and the idea of me one day living in the year 2000 was equivalent to being in a Star Wars movie. It was impossible for me to even comprehend it ever happening.

Fast forward and here I am now, sitting on a couch with a big old beard celebrating a birthday thirty-six years post high school graduation and twenty-three years beyond the year 2000. Back in 1980, it seemed like all I had was time and now I often feel the urge to make the most of what’s left.

I promised myself I’d try to keep things upbeat for this birthday post so let’s talk about the future. In addition to continuing to do interviews (hopefully, you’ve read a few) I’m still doing watercolor painting. Not only has it been a great stress reliever but it’s something you can do that doesn’t cost a lot of money and where you can literally see your progress every day. In a few weeks I’ll be showcasing my very first exhibition of framed pieces at a local winery. If you’re in the area, I hope you can make it out. More on that in the days and weeks ahead.

In the meantime, I hope my next trip around the sun brings all of us a sense of hope, peace and most of all, love. 

Jim