I became serious about creative writing when I was sixteen years old. I write poetry, books, screenplays, articles, short stories, and one-liners; all with philosophic leanings and once in a while a little humor. My purpose here is to enlighten and entertain.
I was born on June 19th in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Two years later I began learning how to distinguish between perception and actuality. I was looking at the patterns in the wall, forming animals and peoples' faces with my imagination. I noticed that if I stared at a particular spot long enough, it would appear to start moving. I remember thinking that it didn't seem possible, so I concluded (without words) that my eyes were playing tricks on me. At age 4 I started ice skating. I started working at age 9 delivering newspapers until the age of 15. About two weeks before my 16th birthday I started working as a food-handler at a Burger King, then a year later at a Shakey's restaurant. I got into in long-distance running and writing at 16. Over the course of 21 years, I completed over 30 marathons (probably 35), multiple 10K's (6.2 miles), 1 and 2-mile races in Highschool Track, 3-mile races in Highschool Cross-country, and many various middle and long-distance road races. My specialty was the longer distances. Once I ran 40 miles without stopping in 5 hours and 23 minutes, I was attempting 50 miles but had to stop from being too dizzy and light-headed. On 2 separate occasions I ran 20 miles-a-day (10 in a.m. & 10 in p.m.) for a 4-week period. On the second occasion I finished the last 3 days by running 25 miles (10 & 15), 25 (10 & 15), and on the last day a 30-miler in 3 hours and 15 minutes. That was while working 10-hour days in construction for my dad at the same parking garage where I had a life-altering accident. I was in the best shape of my life. At 5' 7.5" tall, 138 pounds (1 inch shorter than now), my resting heart rate in the morning averaged only 42 bpm. I started working as a janitor in 1978 at Concleco in Mpls. until '80. While living at my parents' house in ST. Louis Park, MN, I attended a vocational school (7-hour class) in photographic technology (GPA 3.9) in Rosemount, MN from '83 to '85 while working full-time back for Concleco where I previously quit from to work sporadically for my late father in construction (mostly water-blasting). During those two years I completed 6 marathons, each in under 3 hours. I Graduated from ST. Louis Park Sr. High School (GPA 3.8) in 1980. Late winter/early spring of '82 I quit from my job at the Minnikahda Club to move to Kansas City, Kansas to help my late brother Larry who was starting up a division for our father's company there. That didn't work-out so I moved back to Minnesota where I decided to work my way through that vocational school in Rosemount. In '85, while still in school, I took 3rd place in a vocational, state-wide photo contest. Rosemount was a 30-mile drive from my parents' house in ST. Louis Park, and the General Mills plant where I worked for Concleco was five miles away, which I ran in order to do my 10-mile/day running routine. I gave-up running in '98 while I was living in Tucson due to excessive hips and knees injuries from excessive wear and tear. That is when I took up road bicycling as an alternative to long-distance running in '88. I once rode 160 miles in 14 hours in 100+ degrees Faren height. With about 40 miles to go, both of my arms hurt, my shoulders hurt, my legs were like burning spaghetti, my neck hurt, my head hurt (not the one I think with), and the balls of my feet were on fire! I was in so much pain that I wanted to throw my bicycle into the ditch! But I didn't. I gathered myself, peeled my dilapidated body up from sitting on the ground to recover and somehow managed to finish it. It was quite the experience. In September of '82, I suffered that life-altering accident just six days before the Twin Cities Marathon (on track to break 2-1/2 hours). I was water-blasting for my father at a parking garage in ST. Paul, MN. The water-blast gun slipped from my shoulder while I had it set to remain on with tie-wire wrapped over the water-flow valve lever. The laser-stream of water was under 10,000 p.s.i. (pounds per square inc), that's 20 gallons per minute through a 16th inch diameter hole, it's traveling at about 600 mph. I lost my balance backing up into a concrete parking curb. The gun slipped off my shoulder and the water-spray went through my upper left arm at a major artery. Luckily, I was right next door to a hospital. I was lucky to live and not lose my arm. I lost feeling and partial function in my pinky finger and that side of the palm in my left hand. I removed the tie-wire rings from all the guns. I began heavily drinking alcohol and continued to do so until June 19th, 2020. Two years after moving to San Diego I visited my family in Minnesota and the rings were back on the guns. Luckily no one else in the company had a serious accident. I never should have used the ring. Oh, well. At least I'm still sober...
1985 - Present
I moved to San Diego, California in September. I worked as a photofinisher at Colorich Colorlab from '85 to '86. I attended a microcomputer repair course in '86 at Associated Technical College in San Diego to obtain a 6-month certificate. I never got a job in that field. I attended a bank teller course in '87 for six months. I never got a job in that field. I started working as a machine operator at Quidel Corp from '87 to '92, along with a part time job from '89 to '92 as a security guard/receptionist at the Communication Center for Research in LA Jolla, CA. In the fall semester of '92 I attended a philosophy class and an English writing class at Mira Costa College in Oceanside, CA. It was in the writing class that I wrote a paper on world corruption which I later incorporated into chapter 17 of my book, "Profound & Simple." I sporadically attended a few other classes at the San Diego City College between '04 and '09, including a course for becoming a physical trainer, which before completing I had decided that it wasn't a good fit. I tried my hand in sales since 1984, up until about 2010 in various fields including the health/fitness/nutrition industry, vacuum cleaners, Primerica, and several different online direct marketing schemes. I failed at each one. (I'm not good at sales. In fact, I couldn't sell water to someone stranded and dying of thirst with pockets full of money in the middle of a hot desert. - ha ha!) I met my ex-longtime girlfriend in '87, we split-up in '92 before she moved to West Palm Beach, FL that same year. Later that year we decided to get back together, so I moved there to live with her and shortly thereafter we got engaged. There I worked as a forklift operator at a hardwood lumber warehouse. The next year we split-up again, and I worked at Vision Works making eyeglasses along with part time pizza delivery for Papa John's. I moved back to San Diego in '94, couldn't find work so I moved to Globe, Arizona in that same year to work at a copper mine as a labor, stripping copper sheets from lead plates in an electrified tank house. I moved to Tucson, Arizona in '95 to work at Empire Machinery as a forklift operator/delivery driver/warehouse labor/hydraulic hose builder/inventory control. I moved back to San Diego in '98 to work at Hawthorn Machinery until 2001 as a hydraulic hose builder/warehouse labor/forklift operator/delivery driver/inventory control. I began working at the San Diego International Airport in that same year as a ramp agent, as well as a part time pizza delivery driver for Papa John's again. In '04 I began working as a cargo agent/forklift operator/warehouse labor/ULD coordinator at the Delta Cargo warehouse until '19. I completed my first book, "Profound & Simple" in 2002, first published in '04, second edition in September of '17. I published my second book, "The Last Star?" in December of '22. In '09 I got hit by a motorcycle which broke my left arm. It was a hit and run and the guy was never found. The operation costs over $40,000. I got the county to pay for it due from my low income, I didn't have health insurance at that time. So, I was hit by an unresponsible asshole and suffered without any financial gain, other than it being paid for (just my luck). I started experiencing gout in '07. I had been drinking heavily off and on since '85, it had caught up to me by damaging the lower-left parathyroid gland in my thyroid. So, I had unknowingly developed a condition known as hyperparathyroidism (over-active parathyroid gland). That had caused a myriad of health problems. My feet and legs became extremely swollen, to the point I could hardly stand or walk. I had to use a wheelchair for a few months. Both shoulders became so sore that I could hardly move or raise my arms above shoulder level. I developed kidney stones. On January 21st, 2021, I had surgery to remove the swollen parathyroid gland. My excitement toward my recovery was short lived as my condition worsened. I didn't need to use a wheelchair most of the time, by my right arm swelled-up like a watermelon and the doctors couldn't figure out what caused it, the liquid they drew from it was clear and contained no crystals, so it wasn't gout. I later found out that it was pseudo-gout, which hurt more than regular gout. My body was fooling itself into thinking I had gout, so the extra fluid rushed to my arm by mistake, so to speak (my theory). It was kinda weird and excruciatingly painful. About 6 weeks following the surgery I had a muscle spasm in my back for about 2 days, during which time I had to move extremely slow and careful. If I didn't I would get a shooting, gripping pain that felt like a muscle tightening over a bruised nerve like an electric shock wherein the more I resisted the tighter it would squeeze. The spasm would only last a few seconds, but it was so painful it felt more like hours; it was pure agony. Thank goodness that hasn't come back. After seeing 4 different specialists doctors and numerous, various types of scans and bloodwork, I'm doing very well now. I'm down from taking 6 different medications to only two. Once I recover from my foot surgeries (I have 1 more to go), I'll be able to get back to my long-distance bike riding. Unless I decide otherwise for various reasons, one of them being financial. Because the doctors didn't know if or to what degree I would recover, I got put on disability. I've been well enough to work again, but because if I do I would have to payback all the medical expenses including the thyroid surgery, probably hundreds of thousands of dollars, I'm pretty much stuck on it. So, at 62 I'm receiving Social Security income with Medicare, not Medicaid (Shout-out to my brother Dave). I could work part-time, but I don't want to because I got too used to being an independent contractor for Uber, which turns out to be a losing proposition, guaranteed to dig myself into a deeper hole. I began driving for Uber (Tipping point of my medical problems) in March of '17 until May of '22. The thing I enjoyed about it is that I had the freedom of working my own schedule. The problem was that I found myself in need to drive 6, sometimes 7 days a week averaging 14-16 hours per day. I couldn't figure out why I was still winding-up broke after making over $70K/year. Mileage expenses and going further upside in car loans caught up and way surpassed the bottom-line. I discovered that it only makes sense as part-time with a car that's fully paid for. Otherwise, forget it. I've had a few other steady girlfriends since my last break-up with my ex-fiancée, but most of them didn't last longer than a few months, so I'm still single. In addition to my writing and bicycling, I enjoy long walks, watching movies (mostly drama/action, documentaries, sci-fi, psychological thrillers, and comedy that accurately reflects truth), watching the NFL until the Minnesota Vikings win the Superbowl (been waiting since the 70's), listening to music (mostly classic rock, classical, blues, and EDM), dancing to EDM, and acting silly for no apparent reason. Now I'm a semi-retired writer working on this website probably until I die. Tumultuous and interesting, my life has been a rewarding struggle in spite of the reoccurring times when I felt like a wounded dog chasing its own tail.
