According to my mother, I was born a minute after midnight on May 29, 1945, which means I have just completed 74 years of life. It seems kind of funny to celebrate the end of your year, as opposed to the beginning of a new one. So, I am now very, very happy to share with you that I have just begun year 75, which feels like more of an accomplishment than ending one. To me, life is always about new beginnings, the idea of constant change without end, at least until the end, which is debatable anyway.

There was no way I’d let this day pass without writing something, because it’s just what I do. Frankly, I wasn’t really sure what I would share and figured the day would unfold and help me out, which it did and not in the way I would have liked. I am a prototype for George Carlin’s routine about stuff and have accumulated as little as possible over time. Around six years ago, I went through the ultimate cleansing, because I moved to Costa Rica and left here with two normal size suitcases, containing all the stuff I owned, which is really not much at all.

I am not sure it is necessary to make the point that you don’t get any smarter as you get older, but I am living proof of the faulty assumption. I experienced some very painful work disappointment, which is really nothing new for me, having lived countless professional lifetimes. I wish we had the time, because my past is quite colorful and the only thing missing is any regret at all. I have bankrolled more adventures than all of you, keeping in mind I have been around more than most. I even had my life threatened by some Mafia characters. Some other time, I’ll tell you about it all, which I have done once in my memoir, Halloween in Portland.

After four days in Costa Rica, I bought a ticket back home to my true love, Kauai. As i look back over the past 74 years, there is so much I would love to share, but today is my birthday and I am far happier looking forward. In my six years back home, I can’t say I’ve accumulated much more stuff than those two suitcases. I realized today there is probably a reason that goes beyond the Carlin routine. I am too easily thrown off course when an obstacle monkey wrenches my simplicity.

I woke up this morning, feeling terrific about my birthday. I was just a happy guy and took real pleasure in responding to my FaceBook birthday wishes. My day was kind of mapped out in advance. I was going to meet a friend for lunch, who was leaving the island. I may know hundreds of people here, but really don’t have many friends I enjoy hanging out with. My phone doesn’t ring all that often and I am not forever texting my universe, making plans for today, tomorrow and next week. As one, who is too easily confused, my personal calendar is sparsely marked.

Days before, the key to my trusty 2000 Lexus had snapped off and created a minor crisis. One of my motorcycle buddies had offered to put my Humpty Dumpty key back together again, which he did. Fifteen minutes before meeting my friend, I got into the Lexus and started her right up. However, I was unable to get it out of Park and none of the electronics worked. Like any mature, grounded, experienced senior, I panicked, as my world collapsed around me.

There is a terribly embarrassing side to this story, which is too good to leave out. When the key amputation occurred, the battery simultaneously ceased functioning. Taking matters into my own hands, I went to get a new one. Now, here is where you need to follow me closely. I put the new battery in the car and made sure that the printed information faced me as I wrestled it into its place. It seemed awkward to me, but being a literate being, it made sense that the battery info should be facing me. The positive cable couldn’t reach, but being a manly man, I made it fit and promptly placed the positive cable over the negative battery post. It sparked for a split second, a clear indication I had fucked up. I promptly turned the battery around, with the lettering nonsensically upside down and properly connected the battery. Feeling filled with my mechanical prowess, I started the car and felt incredibly manly.

I got into the car this next morning and just as I expected, the car started right up. However, it would not move out of Park and all the electronics were not working. Here I am, on the morning of my birthday, feeling better than good about myself and the car won’t move. I got on my motorcycle and met my good friend for lunch and then stopped off at Toyota to share my tale of woe. I think i screwed up pretty badly and likely have fried some of the computer modules.

I got back home in the afternoon and broke out in a sweat over the car. At the same time, I was thinking I really wanted to write about my birthday and the last thing I needed was some harangue about the material world plotting against me. Hopefully, one of the many things that happens to you as you get older is you begin to lovingly accept your shortcomings. I am kind of a simpleton and when things don’t go right, it is terribly disconcerting. Living a rather minimalist existence is not some profound political statement. It is a concession to the truth that I am easily thrown off course and don’t like it.

A couple of hours ago, I looked at the limping Lexus and figured out how to get it into gear. I will eventually drive it over to Toyota and leave it with them, waiting for the painful price to resuscitate it.

Wait a minute! Today is my birthday and it is a once a year thing. I am grateful the car episode occurred, because I realized how delicate this life is and how easy it is to lose sight of what an incredible privilege it is to be here. I have lived an extraordinary life these past 74 years, filled with adventure and wonderful people. Yes, I have kept my material existence rather simple, but it has allowed me to focus my energy on living, absent too many distractions.

I love my birthday and always have. I feel so incredibly fortunate to have been allowed to live this life and it is probably one of the reasons why I feel so compelled to share with you. I am filled with gratitude and overcome with tears.