About me and this website/newsletter/blog/whatever

As of today, I am 29,102 days old,

That makes me nearly 80. (Technically, 79.67671232876)

WTF!

By the time you read this, I’ll be older. Or dead.

But you are not.

This is a part of my life. And as I wrote in this post, now you are a part of my life.

You are a part of my life and I am a part of yours.

Even if we never meet one another (except through thit blog) we are in one another lives.

And I am glad.

My life is richer as a result of everyone I have ever met, talked with, heard of. And the countless ones I’ve never encountered who have nonetheless changed the trajectory of my life, however slightly.

I hope when you are my age, you’re at least as happy as I mostly am. Where does happiness come from? I claim my happiness is a gift I’ve been given. And since gifts are for giving (and forgiving) it is my joy to offer you happiness as well.

There are no secrets to being happy, but there are ways to think and things to do that have reliably brought me happiness. They were gifts to me, and I am happy to share them with you.

Writing this newsletter reliably makes me happy. I’ve been writing posts/newsletters/whatever since I was 70. And writing them always leads me to happiness.

Everything I’ve written is worth keeping, but not all of it is worth applying. Some of it is wrong. One way I have discovered what’s right is to make mistakes. Indeed I know believe that the only way to find truth is though making mistakes. Even God makes mistakes—or so She tells me. And if it works for Her, and it works for me it will work for you.

Go forth and make mistakes.

Some of what I’ve written is a mistake. Maybe it wasn’t when I wrote it and maybe it was then, and is still. Whatever. These are my mistakes. And a lot of what I’ve written needs grammar checking and rewriting.

And some of it is JUST PLAIN WRONG.

I’ll get around to fixing it one of these days. Or not.

But in the meantime, here is the front page.

Make the best of it.

Love,

Michael/Mike/Dad/Daddy/Pops/Gramps/Papa/Hey Stupid

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People

A guy who likes to research and think and write, often in that order, but sometimes not