Fifty-Eighth Birthday Thoughts

On this, the evening before my 58th birthday, I thought I'd share some of my feelings about where I'm at, and the various blessings I have received and continue to benefit from. Oh, sure, still in exile (for another few weeks), still on my own, etc. etc., but whiny-ness is no way to head into one's birthday, and besides, complaints inevitably sound stale and boring the next morning. Let's focus on the positive, shall we?

Let's start with the corporeal. I remain grateful for — and, honestly, surprised by — my continued good health. Oh, I hurt my shoulder a few days ago hitting tennis balls with friends without warming up first, and that may at some point force me to take a week or so off, and I've had a sore/stiff back since moving into my friend's house here in Tucson (I think the mattress on my bed here on isn't quite ideal, though I'm sleeping just fine), which is preventing me from exercising as much as I'd like. But those are minor and temporary aches and pains. As I head into 58, I've never broken a bone, I've had no hip or knee issues, and — unlike my father, by this age — I've not yet been diagnosed with cancer, or diabetes, or any of the other more serious and chronic ailments many people my age have developed.

They're coming, I'm sure, obviously. But not yet — and I'm able, at this point, to run, play tennis, have an ice cream or pizza, go to the gym, ride my bike, have sex (in theory, at least, if not so often in practice these days), and essentially do everything I could do a decade ago, or two, or four. 

That's wonderful, and I don't take any of it for granted. 

Second, necessary resources. I'm also fortunate in my financial situation. My father, in a thoughtful and generous act typical of him, left both my sister and me decent-sized inheritances when he died in 2018, and while those funds are not enough to retire on, they've provided me with a critical stability and security, allowing me the ability to live comfortably while I prepare for whatever comes next. My two businesses in Prague will (finally!) be launched soon, and I'm hopeful at least one of those — perhaps both — will do much more than simply underpin or supplement my savings. I hope they will, in fact, justify my father's confidence in me and make his gift an act of trust, rather than charity. We'll have to see. But I'm profoundly fortunate and immensely grateful to have that rainy-day fund. 

The personal! I'm fortunate to have so many great friends and family, distributed around the world. I received my first (electronic) birthday card this afternoon from Glenda, Liesel's mother in Australia — the most recent in a yearly tradition of her starting the acknowledgments. I've also already received a birthday note on Facebook from a former Peace Corps colleague in Russia, and I expect to hear tomorrow from friends in Italy, Germany, England, Canada, Brazil, Jordan, France, Greece, Turkey, Switzerland, Romania, and Hungary, among other countries, as well as from friends and family in Michigan, Kansas, California, Florida, Texas, New York, Tennessee, and Virginia, among other states.

And, of course, the Czech Republic, where I've already been fortunate enough to find friends to play tennis with, friends to go into business with, friends willing to cat-sit for me, and friends to break bread and share beers. 

And, of course of course, my friends here in Arizona. Amazingly, Matt and Remi — who arrived shortly before I decided to move back to Europe, and whose great friendship (which, of course, my life being what it is, developed almost immediately after I had committed to leaving) — have graciously allowed me to use one of their cars for as long as I'm here. Similarly, Rick, who went to Prague with me a few years ago on a visit, and is planning to come again next spring, is allowing me to stay in his house while I'm here, rent-free, which is incredibly kind. Mike and Mitch, my first friends here, remain close. Jim, Gina, Oleg, Nick, Brenda, and more .... It took leaving to realize the community of friends I have here. They're awesome.

In fact, why don't we stop here for some photos of me with my friends throughout the years. 

Christmastime, Ann Arbor,1988

Summer in Prague, 2018

Saying good-bye to Tucson the first time, in 2024

A softball team in Ann Arbor, 1984

Outside the school in Emar Bay, 1997

Winter party in Budapest, 2008-09

Michigan football, 2021

West Berlin, 1978

College, 1989

Zizkov, in Prague, 2023

Perth, 2024

And, of course of course, of course, my sister Emily in Charlottesville and my Mom in Athens, Ohio. Our regular video chats make me marvel at how recent this free video-calling tool has entered our lives and how immediately we've started taking it for granted. So many families are in one way or another dysfunctional, but somehow ... no, not somehow. Because my parents were unusually reasonable, intelligent, educated, and committed to being smart, our family has always stayed sensible, calm, and supportive. Losing my father was a giant blow to me, but my sister and Mom are absolutely fundamental to my ability to operate and normal. Emily is the best sister, and my Mom the best mother, I could ever dream of having. Fight me!

Virginia, 1995

Greece, 2023

Finally, of course of course, of course, of course: There's Liesel, in Vienna. She's the constant, the friend, the best friend ... and so much more. She's the reason I returned to Europe both in 2011 and again in 2024, and her presence in my life is a daily gift. I don't know what's going to happen with us, of course. Whether we're destined to stay apart, our relationship marked with frequent visits and travels, or whether at some point in the future our paths will join more permanently. Time will tell. Until then, though, it's difficult to imagine not talking with her every day, knowing her schedule like I know my own, sharing her anxieties and concerns, celebrating when I can make her laugh, and even sometimes accidentally hurting her but then breathing a massive sigh of relief when she forgives me. She knows me better than anyone else, her quick mind and kind spirit help me maintain perspective and hope, and although there is much we don't share — I'm nowhere near as open to the spiritual and hopeful parts of this world as she is, for instance, and for her part, she's not likely to join me on the sofa watching football anytime soon — we share a sense of humor, as well as general understanding/sensibility that helps us both keep moving forward.

She knows.

Everything, Always

For her. For her and my mother and sister. For her and my mother and sister and friends in Arizona and the Czech Republic. For her and my mother and sister and friends in Arizona and the Czech Republic and around the world ... I could not have been more blessed. Whoever is reading this, wherever, and whenever ... you should envy me. I am truly fortunate.

Ok, let's wrap this up with a few other things I'm happy about. We'll do it in a bullet-list to save time:

• Detroit Tigers in the playoffs, giving me daily diversion while I wait for my visa!
• A good season for both Michigan football and, remarkably, for Crystal Palace 
• The fact that being exiled in the US means, happily, regular exposure to good bagels and Mexican food, and good frozen pizza, all of which are very difficult —if not impossible — to find in Europe!
• A belated-in-life-but-better-then-than-never discovery that I'm pretty damned good in tennis!
• Still have my hair!
• Those authors we find, like — for me — Elmore Leonard and Mick Herron, whose next books we eagerly await and immediately devour
• General athleticism and coordination! (I was talking to Rick today about how I've never been superior in any sport, but I've always been basically coordinated and sportly(!)-inclined, and I don't take that for granted. You show me a sport (other than golf), and I'll quickly become by-all-accounts-good-though-never-great at it. 
• Washing machines and driers. I lived in Russia. I did fine there. I enjoyed it. But good GOD I never want to wash jeans by hand again, ever ever ever.

Finally, I would be remiss if I didn't express my gratitude for and profound love for the two cats I've shares most of the past 14 years with. Jeneroo, who entered my life in 2013, and Catalina, who entered it on New Year's Eve 2019, are charismatic, demanding, vomity, talkative, problematic-and-profoundly-worth-it bundles of fur, claws, and love. One or the other of them has spent almost all of the many years I've lived alone since 2017, and coming home to and hanging out at home with them has gone a long way towards keeping me sane. I can tell you, experiencing it as I did for three months last spring and am again now, coming home to an empty and cold house/flat is ... lonely. We are all blessed by the love these animals give us, me particularly by Jen and Cat.

Zen Jen

Cat Sat

Thank you, Jen the Roo and Catalina Malina.

And Happy Birthday to me!