So I could stand to lose 15 pounds and without my retainer-bound fake tooth in place I look like a pirate or street person, but otherwise another annual circuit around the sun finds me well. I was getting really grumpy monday night, worrying about whether or not I was getting old and bland and sorry.

But I got a wake up call from London from Rina (best girlfriend ever), who was quite kind, and many well-wishes throughout the day. Especially in light of being back up in Humboldt last weekend for a visit with people from that (wholly different) scene, it made me realize how lucky I am. My weird road over the bast thirty-some years have been supremely unlikely, but also blessed, most notably by all the fantastic people I've been privileged enough to meet and connect with. What are the odds? On some level it doesn't matter because it is, but then again sometimes you have to marvel.

Indeed, I may be old and toothless, but I am not without my soul. I may lack a current theory of change — that's hard at the moment, k? — but I'm still purehearted enough to be excited by gaming traffic light timing and early moonrise. I'd be lying if I didn't admit there was a strong undercurrent of doom out here these days, but that's not new. It's like 2005 all over again. Have to figure it out one step at a time.

Risks and rewards abound. Substance will come. Wisdom awaits. In the meantime hopefully I can shackle myself to enough gym visits to offset my metabolic decline.

Only time will tell.