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Fifty-eight-years-ago today I was born. July 8, 1957 in Williamsburg Hospital in Brooklyn, between the 2nd and 3rd floors.  Yep I was impatient even back then.

I used to be a huge baby about my birthday–it had to be my day and my
day only. For example even though my niece’s birthday is July 6th, and
my daughter’s the 5th, at my insistence family celebrations were on
three different days (because I didn’t want to share my day– the 8th).
My brother still insists the reason I broke up with a former girlfriend
was because her birthday was the 7th (not true--OK maybe a little true).

Over the past few years I went to the other extreme, not caring about my
birthday at all. Perhaps it was because of my previous place of
employment.

When I worked at PGA Media, they a birthday party for each
employee. My direct boss was very passive-aggressive. She made me so
miserable that I didn’t want her to soil my big day. In fact I used to
beg our office manager to keep the day a secret. She had the
responsibility of telling management who’s day was coming up.

My last year at that company Peg and I  managed to keep July 8th day
private for an entire month. In mid-August  (three weeks  before I was
let go) management discovered my secret. Peggy and I were both scolded
and I was given a party whether I liked  it or not.  Trying to show the
world how nice they were, I received a “nice” presents. A windbreaker
jacket 4 sizes too small and a set of dessert bowls. Dessert Bowls????
Why didn’t they just take their cue from Alec Baldwin’s famous speech in Glengarry Glen Ross and give me steak knives?

And then a few years later when I had moved to Athlon Sports Magazine, and had been there for over two years, they hired Ms. Passive Aggressive to run the company…I was let go her first day before she showed up at work. Didn’t even have the guts to say hello.

I guess it was a good thing, because it motivated me to change careers and write full time.  Now at home my wife insists on a special meal with her and the
kids and cards, and I insist on Ice Cream Cake so I guess we’ve settled into a nice in-between the birthday love and hate.
 
As I do every year around my birthday I have reflecting on my years on this earth to
see what I have learned so far and put them into a list I wanted to
share

Things I learned on my 58th Birthday:


  • I am a jinx for websites owned by David Horowitz, when I worked for Newsreel he killed the site, and in first quarter year he cleaned house at (including me) at TruthRevolt. 
  • My  arms are shrinking–even though I move reading material
    as far away as possible it is still difficult to read. It must be that
    my arms are shrinking and I cant hold papers as far away as I used to.
  • My ears are playing tricks on me–I hear sounds– not ringing
    or anything like that, but every time I move there is cracking coming
    from the moving joint. There must be some sort of aural-cartilage
    connection.
  • Medicine—you know how airplanes have a 50 pound limit on
    luggage? This morning as I gave myself my daily shot, and took my AM pills it became very clear that on
    my next excursion that limit will be passed with my medicine alone. 
  • Naps- Are very much wasted on the young. 
  •  Doctors—like any Jewish boy who did not go into medicine, I
    disappointed my parents with my career choice. My trips to different
    doctors are so frequent I believe I could pass the medical exams just
    through what I learned via osmosis.
  • Girls–When I was younger I enjoyed looking at magazines
    showing scantily-clad or even naked women. The other day I found myself
    thumbing though a copy of Maxim.  All I
    could think of was how creepy I felt–my daughter is older than most of
    those girls. Do their fathers know how they were posing?
  • Coolness–I never really ran with the cool crowd but the
    other day at dinner when my son made a joke about me not being cool it
    kind of stung. But then when I stood up and pulled up my sagging pants, I
    realized that I wore my pants all the way up to my arm-pits and my son
    is right. But hey these days being a nerd is a good thing right?
  • I don’t care! Kurt Schlichter
    is famous for using the twitter hashtag #caring as an indication he
    doesn’t care.  I now know how he feels there are so many things that
    bore me. And when conservatives make that circular firing squad I find myself echoing
    my father, “stop fighting already you are family” #caring.

Before last year, I had constant pain in a shoulder which
eventually needed an operation. It was so bad at times I couldn’t type.  But my shoulder is finally feeling a little better, and on the same day I
got fired Ben Shapiro offered me a job at TruthRevolt, and after the massacre at TR, I moved up in life and started working at MRCTV and IranTruth  The 405 Network which produced the radio show I did with my friend Tami Jackson stopped broadcasting during the week so the show died, but next week I start a new solo radio show “Rogue Nation”  on the SHR Media Network. So in the past year I learned
that old saying about God closing one door and opening another is 100% true.

Perhaps the most important thing I learned on my 58th birthday is that
none of the above matters. I have good friends, many of whom I met via
my writing, tweeting, and broadcasting.  I have a 75 pound sissy lapdog, two
wonderful kids and a wife I love
more every day than the day before and that is more important than
anything else–no matter how anything else get you down.

As bad as things seem to be in my life, here in the greatest country on God’s Earth, and in my homeland ארץ ישראל, the land of Israel, I eagerly look forward to the next twelve-months, because I truly feel that its going to be a great and happy year.

Thank you all for reading! 

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