Although I’ve been around for a long time, I haven’t led a particularly eventful life. Here’s the abridged version:

I was born in an Army hospital, on a base that no longer exists. We lived in Long Branch, NJ at the time. My Dad was in the US Army Signal Corps, where he was an instructor. My Mom was a secretary in one of the base commands.

That’s how they met, actually. My Dad had to deliver some papers to my Mom’s boss. She took them, and he left. A guy who witnessed the transaction must have seen something, because he asked, “Who was that?”

“That’s the guy I’m gonna marry,” was my Mom’s response.

So we lived in an apartment not far from the beach, and my Mom, half-brother and I stayed there when my Dad was shipped to Vietnam. When he returned a year later, we got housing on base, where we stayed for five years.

After that, my Dad was shipped to Korea for a year, and my Mom and I went to live with one of her sisters and her family. My half-brother left to spend a year or so in the Air Force.

My Dad returned, they got an apartment “uptown,” where we stayed for a couple years, until he retired and they bought a house in a neighboring town.

We stayed there for six years or so, long enough for me to finish Middle School and High School, and head off to Rutgers. They headed south to Florida.

I initially wanted to major in music and be a Jazz musician, but quickly discovered I didn’t have the “chops.” After bouncing around a couple different departments, I followed my girlfriend into a journalism class, and that was that.

I joined the staff of our college weekly, made my way to editor, and upon gradfuati9on, got a job at a local weekly.

After a few years, the company bought another weekly and shipped me off as managing editor and, later, editor. This was when I was 27. I hadn’t pictured myself as an editor until I was in my 40s.

Too much, too soon and I burned out after nearly two years. I quit newspapers altogether, freelanced for a while, temped and then ended up at New Jersey Institute of Technology as a desktop publisher and later, as a World Wide Web designer.

That lasted about nine years, but I never got journalism out of my blood. So when I heard about some openings in a local daily in 1997, I figured what the heck. To my surprise, I was offered a job.

I stayed there for about 7 years, I think, until I was chased out by an asshole editor who took a dislike to me. I transferred down to my hometown paper, one of the two papers I delivered when I was a kid, the Asbury Park Press.

I stayed there for nine years, until the asshole editor ended up there and chased me out of there, too.

Facing few journalism opportunities at age 53, my partner and I decided to start our own publication for our town. It started life as a Web-only publication, but after a few years, we went old-school and added a printed monthly newspaper.

So that’s where it’s at, here on the cusp of 2025. The goal for the new year: Expand the newspaper through more advertising, and boost subscriptions for the online site.

We’ll see how that plan goes. At least that asshole editor can’t touch me anymore.