Lucky

I am a lucky man.

When I look at my life so far, it would be difficult to call it anything other than a good one. From the outside, my life probably looks rather ordinary. Childhood in a small town. An adulthood spent as one among the millions in and around New York City. Periods of sadness and long periods of simple, ordinary life. Repetitive days leading to repetitive weeks. People have died and others have been born. Friendships have begun, some have continued, others have ended.

I'm not sure if it's age or circumstance or what, but lately I've preferred to take a step back and give it all a good look. And I have to say, I've been blessed with a definite "half-full" existence.

I grew up in a small Massachusetts town and headed to New York at the age of 25. New York back then, was thrilling and amazing. And it still is. I love standing in the middle of Times Square at night, the neon all ablaze, people running in every direction and my body feeling every pulse of the city. I love the diversity. I love the fact that I interact every day with people of every color and every nationality. I love walking down the street and hearing different languages spoken. I love the fact I know how to easily navigate the streets of New York without hesitation. And, although technically I now live just outside the city in Jersey, I am first and foremost a New Yorker. Not bad for a small town New England boy. I am a lucky man.

In my lifetime, I have survived Catholic school, coming to terms with being gay, the AIDS nightmare, unemployment, widowerhood, loneliness, grief and more than a few gray hairs. Death has been too familiar at times. I have lost friends, a sibling, a parent and a partner. Like so many others, I was in downtown Manhattan on 9/11 and will never forget the events of that horrible day. In times when I thought I didn't know what to do next, something, and often someone, came along and helped me get back on my feet. I am a lucky man.

I haven't always known what it was I wanted to do to make a living. But somehow, I always seem to manage to make one. I have been on stage and on television. I have been interviewed for news programs around the world. I have met celebrities. I have done work where the outcome, hopefully, helps someone. I have done work that makes children smile. And, unbelievably, someone pays me for it. I am a lucky man.

In my 46 years I have learned to blow my own horn. I can hem a pair of pants and sew a button on a shirt. I can cook a halfway decent meal. I bake some damn good cookies. I manage to pay the bills, take care of the house and get the dog to the vet for her shots on a regular basis. I can paint a wall, hammer a nail and iron a shirt. I am a lucky man.

I am surrounded by amazing family and friends. When I need someone, someone is there. And I can only hope I manage to offer even half as much as I'm given. I have my health, I have my sense of humor and I still have all my teeth. I am a lucky man.

And, most astoundingly, I have been in love and been loved in return.

I am a lucky man.