I CELEBRATE MYSELF

 This is not a medical update. It's an age update - - - and I'm trying to decide which one is the most annoying. Logically speaking (which isn't exactly one of my fortes), without the medical updates, there probably wouldn't be an age update. I suppose that deserves gratitude.

I'm purposefully rambling to avoid mentioning the subject of birthdays. I disliked them even when I was a child. They always seemed like a pompous self-serving inconvenience.

There's nothing special about treading the grueling years. We're all survivors in one way or another. I suppose survival is the most important cause for celebration. Perhaps. Walt Whitman could probably explain it. (*smile*).

Every passing year astonishes me - - but this one in particular was nothing short of an incredible miracle. I couldn't ask for a greater gift than that.

I have no concrete future plans accept to be humbly greatful for what I've been given. Every day is a birthday gift to cherish.

I can't celebrate myself without attempting to describe myself. Not an easy task.

I'm an inexhaustible collection of contradictions. An eternal enigma. Extremely diverse. Notoriously sensitive. Appallingly insecure. Annoyingly immature. Moody. Creative.

Indefatigably romantic and sentimental, with a deeply infused affliction of nostalgia and melancholy.

How's that for a self-description? Every word is true.

My personal obsessions include music, literature, art, history (in a proverbial nutshell). Among many other things.

I couldn't exist without opera and ballet. But I also like bluegrass, ragtime, country, rock, "oldies," whatever.  Puccini and King Crimson. I'm a nondenominational music lover.

The piano was my greatest solace. My mother was a brilliant pianist and my first teacher.

The worst times of my life?

The eternal battles with my father - who nearly destroyed me and , without a doubt, was absolutely the most insanely violent person I ever knew. The physical wounds healed. The psychological wounds still exist.

The happiest times of my life?

When I was in love. Absolutely. (no need to expound)

My accomplishments?

Foremost is my uncanny ability to be resilient.

Other accomplishments seem insignificant and trivial. I have no interest in college degrees or pompous, self-serving intellectualism.

I attended college solely to propel my musical career and interact with other musicians. I played cello as a second instrument. I studied piano, composition, and conducting.

I performed as soloist and accompanist throughout Southern California. When I was twenty, I performed a piano concerto with a symphony orchestra. (the concerto no.4 in D minor by Anton Rubinstein). Performed several chamber music concerts at UCLA.

Had nearly 100 poems published in literary magazines and anthologies. Some of those poems are included in my book Love Letters to Ghosts.

I no longer give a flying fig about poetry. It was my youthful passion (or one of my passions...)

I later became a freelance writer. At the time it was challenging fun but not financially rewarding (I was paid anywhere from $100 to $2,500 for an article). $2,500 was rare, of course.

I still have boxes filled with my publications. Extremely diverse. True confessions, history, music, westerns, fiction, erotic fiction (I'll reluctantly admit it). I specialized in the film industry and Hollywood history (I existed in Hollywood and knew a surprisingly impressive amount of prominent people there).

Admittedly, being a published writer was rewarding. Unfortunately, the onset of the Internet destroyed the old-fashioned literary world where knowledgeable editors and genuine talent existed. Nowadays, everybody is an online "writer".

Besides writing and music, I had other sporadic jobs. Dishwasher, cook, chauffeur, security guard, editor, proof reader, movie extra.......and the list goes on.

The most intriguing time in my sordid life?

When I was young, wild, careless, adventurous, extremely self-destructive, promiscuous, and obsessed with courting danger - - broke and often drunk - - haunting the hardcore midnight streets of Hollywood.

I could astound you with the tales I have to tell. But that was long ago in a different realm. 

Today I'm a completely different person. I look back at my youth with absolute astonishment and often horror- - but strangely enough with few regrets.

I've definitely said too much. Probably much more than you'd ever want to know.Thank you for eagerly joining my celebration.....or at least tepidly tolerating it.

With love, Jon

Incidentally, I don't smoke. This was a pathetic ploy to look tough.

BTW - - my birthday is tomorrow, the 13th.