I remember understanding that this was the end of life in a protective womb. That we would all be very different people in a year as we faced the challenges of the "real world." I remember feeling as though I was facing an enormous unknown. At the same time, I thought I was so grown-up and capable of making my own decisions. Not!

Concentrated on growing my hair. But, I also played as much music as I could. And, I tried (unsuccessfully) to get laid.

I went to East Texas State in Commerce. I played in a band and watched my grades plummet. The stress on healthy males of draft age in 1965-66 was tremendous, overwhelming, oppressive. I managed to eek out mediocre academic performance for a semester. Then, I simply dropped all my classes and joined the Marines.

I’ve attended about six different schools: ETSU, NTSU, UT in Austin, Amber University, El Centro, Richland. But most of my real education came in "alternative" studies in psychology. I discovered personal development, Neuro-linguistic Programming and hypnotherapy.

At ETSU I roomed with the late John Watson. And, I will never forget Barbara Green for helping me secure a (very) early release from the Marines to return to college.

Three years in the Marines, from 66-69. It is a wonder that I did not go to Vietnam. After all, I was trained to be a radio operator. And, I didn’t go. Instead, the Marines decided that I was more important as a drummer in the Marine Band at Twentynine Palms, California. Being able to play drums is why I did not go to Vietnam. Not going to Vietnam is why I’m alive and relatively sane today. And, those two qualities are essential pieces in the puzzle that created who I am today and the passions I act on today. More on that later. Today, I’m part of another military-type of organization. More on that later, too.

I never got married – not even once. I never felt the marriage gene and, unless you have kids, I have always thought of marriage as being like elective imprisonment. I’ve cohabitated many times. Lived fast, loose and lasciviously for many years. Fear of weird diseases put an end to that. Having said all that, I consider myself married now. I’ve been with Pam for about ten years. Interestingly, she and I had many of the same friends, and attended the same events for 20 years, but never met. When we finally did meet, and discovered our many connections it became a counterpoint to our lives that continues to tickle us.. She was friends with most of the friends I’d had for years. We’re still discovering places our paths crossed and mutual friends we didn’t know each other had.

Another gene I didn’t get. Don’t have any kids. But I have two wonderful dogs (Woody and Eva) and a cat (Georgia) who trusts me.

After the Marines, I worked parking cars, as a garbage man at White Rock Lake, as a janitor at Northpark, as a painter and substitute teacher. But life was not always so rosey. Actually, with the exception of those short-lived jobs, my first career was in music. I played drums and performed as a comic for about twelve years. I’ve played jazz, classic rock, blues, country, classical, musical theater. I played with Kenny and the Kasuals (off and on) for about 30 years. Also with a band called Summerfield and another called Circumstance. Traveled a lot. Recorded a lot. I finally got laid. It was a great life with the exception of one thing – money. I was the poster boy for the "staving musician."

More music. But I was getting burned out and wanted to move into something that used my other natural talents, while providing me an actual income. Remember Bowley and Wilson? I played with them and John Wilson became a very close friend. I also lived in Austin for five years and performed with Esther’s Follies. When I came back from Austin, I went to work writing marketing programs for JCPenney Financial Services. I’ve been a professional writer ever since, and have added many other skills on top of that.

In October of 2005, Pam and I packed up our old kit bag and drove out of Dallas, heading for Spokane, Washington. We simply got tired of the oppressive heat and humidity, road rage, big hair and self-important people in Dallas. They say that people are the same everywhere. But they are wrong.

Spokane is a city about the size Austin was in the early 70s. I have not run into that self-important "bitch" attitude that prevails in Dallas, Addison, Plano. It’s beautiful here. The people are very down-to-earth and friendly. We enjoy all four seasons. I go skiing 20 miles from my house. I ride my Harley on twisting 2-lane blacktops that wind through gorgeous mountains and along the amazing Columbia River. I watch deer and wild turkeys cross my yard. Quail, pheasants, hawks and eagles land in our trees.

We live on five exquisite acres in the midst of a pine forest and looking out at Mount Spokane. This is exactly a place we would rent for a romantic weekend – except we live here. If you have never seen the great northwest, you very likely have a malnourished picture of beauty. I’ve been all over Texas (Hill country, piney woods, south Texas, Austin, West Texas, Red River), and there is nothing in the lone star state that can compare to Washington. I didn’t know that until just a few years ago. Imagine my shock to learn that the beauty that Lewis & Clark found is largely intact.

My life is divided into two parts.

The professional part is based on psychology. I went back to school and finally finished getting my degree in psychology. Then, went on to study Neuro-linguistic Programming and Hypnotherapy. I do a lot of coaching and training. I was teaching classes in personality types when I figured out how to look into someone’s face and read what his or her personality type is. Literally, within a few seconds, I know more about a stranger than his or her family does. Wrote a book titled Face Values (and seven others). So, I’m an author. I also write two columns and host two on-line radio shows. At least a dozen times a year I do keynotes, seminars or some kind of training program.

The personal part is based on many of the things that happened to me over the years. Remember, when I didn’t go to Vietnam? I believe that the hand of God protected me. I could hear a voice in my head saying, "Don’t worry, you’re not going to Vietnam. You’re not going to die. There is important work for you to do later." Mind you, it’s strange for me to tell you that because I don’t have a religious bone in my body – missed out on that gene, too. But, I finally figured out what my important work is. It combines, my Marine Corps experience, my entertainment experience, my experience managing big bicycle rallies, delivering speeches, inspiring large groups, writing, my basic rebellious nature, and my love of riding my Harley. All of those elements come together to create an ability to lead large groups of bikers in a certain kind of very serious activity. More on that later.

Not really. I do write to some of them and miss many of them. I’m only 250 miles from Bill Janes and Penney Twocats Russell, and I intend to ride the Harley over to the west side of the state to visit them. Honest.