On September 29, 1970, 35 years ago today, my mom and dad welcomed a new baby into the world, and that baby was me. When they took me home from Washington D.C.'s Columbia Hospital for Women and put me in the playpen with my sister, Michelle, (then two years old) she immediately tried to kill me.
We've patched things up since then, and now I can happily say I've got the greatest family a guy could ask for.
I'm probably not alone in feeling a little nostalgic and melancholy on my birthday. It's always a time for reflecting on where you've been and where you're going. I had expected things to be a little bit different by the time I hit the half-way point to 70: I'd be a millionaire, famous author, astronaut, etc. There's much I haven't accomplished, but also much that I have.
The most rewarding way for me to look at it is to measure my life by the people who surround me. My wife, Jenn, my excellent family and great friends. I almost don't deserve such wonderful people in my life, but they motivate me to be a better person every day. So I'd like to say thank you to all of them. All of you. Thank you!
As the cast of RENT sings so eloquently, measure your life in love. (Link)
I took the above photo of myself in our garden this morning. This is what I look like at age 35.