Today was my 62nd birthday. I know, big deal. Everyone has at least one a year. Looking good for 62? Oh, don't be fooled - Photoshop is my best friend and I'm not afraid to use it. You'll have to come to a live performance to see what I REALLY look like. Plus, Ross DenOtter at Pink Monkey Studios who took that picture knows how to work some kind of magic that is most definitely not evident when I'm walking the dog at 6 am. Or any other time.
62 is not a significant number, other than the fact that it's somewhat unfathomably high considering I still feel 18 and that I'm just getting started. Not the idiotic risk taking 18 year old I was, but the one who was excited about all the life there was yet to live and game for just about anything (that doesn't involve a roller coaster, warfare, or major surgery).
I started my celebratory day with a bike ride with a new saddle and my first pair of cycling shorts. I got my first bike for my 18th birthday, and shortly after that rode from Vancouver down to San Francisco. It's remained one of the great pleasures of life. That's a lot of riding without the extra padding of cycling shorts. I had no idea what I was missing. I'm pretty sure the shorts have promoted me from "enthusiast" to "cyclist". I'm owning this butt baby!
Now, birthdays are not what they used to be before Facebook. Pretty much everyone I've ever encountered in my life has sent greetings today and a few hundred more that I don't know. That's both kind of wonderful and a little bizarre.
The next present to myself was to sign my licensing deal with Borealis Records and send it off in the mail. That felt reeeeal good.
My last goal for the day was to write this note to you to tell you how indescribably grateful I am to be making music and loving it more than EVER! All of it - the audiences, the touring, the songs, the camaraderie with my fellow musicians, the happy accidents, the groove, it all still moves me like nothing else on earth. And I appreciate how it wouldn't be this way without you. Now I can go to bed.