One hundred and fifty years from now there is a fairly good chance I will be dead. What will the future leaders of tomorrow say about the man who influenced one generation and inspired two more? What tales will they tell? How can we be assured my good name won’t be slandered by jealousy and pettiness?
Sadly, we can’t. Due to the human condition, my life will be assuredly skipped over in the annals of history, with maybe one decent blot found somewhere between Joseph Stalin and Mr. T. What will that blot say? I have no idea, due to the fact that, once again, there is a fairly good chance I’m dead.
Seeing how I am the type of guy who screams, “proactive” I have decided to rectify a future wrong. I have decided to take it upon myself to set the record straight regarding the ground-breaking events and epic confrontations that have made up my life. After all, who else but me could tell you how I was feeling when I defeated Kirk Cameron in an arm wrestling contest to free the noble people of Quebec and have them bestow the humble title of, “Mr. Canada 1996”? Is there anyone alive who could better describe the events leading up to Fred, the King of Denmark’s most trusted advisor poisoning my grape Gatorade and putting me into a six month coma, causing a mad scramble for the crown?
I certainly think not.
The goal of this is not to brag. I don’t want to come across as conceited or full of bravado. All I want is to give you, dear reader, the opportunity to better understand just how great this world is because of me. To read about the lives I touched, the lovers I knew and my experiences as an orphan that changed American adoption laws forever. So go grab a drink, find your favorite chair and revel in the wonderment, the spectacular, the heavenly bliss that was my life.
December 14, 1983