Birthdays can be considered bonus New Year’s Days. The resolutions you didn’t know you needed to make, or that you forgot to launch on January 1st, can instead inaugurate your very own perfectly designed New Year, a bonus new year, a do-over—your very own birth year as the year that matters.
I do this every year; obviously it has made my life flow perfectly to tremendous wealth, high position, and flawless beauty. Or if not quite all of that, it’s an excellent way to alleviate my anxiety about everything that so far hasn’t worked out in this fateful (for the world and likely, all of its inhabitants) year of 2025.
Every year on my birthday, various close comrades, personal pals, friendly acquaintances, people I spent good times with years ago or last year, and random, important for one reason or the other, good humans from here and there in the world, wish me happy birthday. Not so many, but just the right amount to make me feel, well, you know…warm and fuzzy.
And every year, I vow to pay attention to everyone else’s birthdays…and then that doesn’t happen. This year I decided to make up for my neglectful ways by posting many photos of friends from all decades of my life who have been important in some meaningful way…and wishing each and every one a happy birth day. I’ve included mentor, work, political, art and childhood friends and plain old friend-friends forever—the best kind after all.
A few of the pictures are of friends from many years past with whom I’ve lost touch, and a very few are friends who are no longer here in this world. Happily, so many of you fine beings are still in my life: a few streets or cities or countries away; we touch base through FB, a message, a call, and, even a card now and then—or not at all, but your presence lingers.
You will be able to tell that the photos are not in any rigorous order (partially because this book is organized by a computer at the publishers. Also because they are from childhood and every stage between. Since most of my life takes place in Albuquerque, that’s where you’ll find the bulk of my friends: Politics, work buddies, a romance or two, the KiMo years, and immediately after. The last groupings in the post focus on North Fourth Art Center, Global DanceFest, and the Africa Consortium. I’m missing a few persons of importance to me because of lost photos. Fortunately, those numbers are small.
Seventies and eighties: My Albuquerque life begins with the McGovern campaign, political volunteering, various occupational dabbling, and then in the late 70s, a wonderful job with the City of Albuquerque, first as the creator of a street festival called Downtown Saturday Night, and then for a 10-year stint with the KiMo Theater. So many engaging and talented friends…and a happy this year to you all, wherever you are.
In 2000 I moved back to Albuquerque, after a ten year sojourn in Minnesota and California. I was briefly a mental health therapist and consultant at the KiMo Theater, before becoming the director of VSA arts of New Mexico/North Fourth Art Center and creator of Global Dancefest, a twelve year festival of international contemporary dance theater. Altogether, an intense 24 years of arts programs aimed at talented individuals with disabilities and the broader arts community.
And some of the fantastically-talented original and wondrous artists showing their art at North Fourth and performing for Global DanceFest (many connected to Africa Consortium) from 2001 on.
This gathering of memories was most enjoyable…accompanied by a large dose of melancholy…but isn’t everything these days. I realize how proud I am to have had all of you, and/or to still have you, in my life. Thank you.
The happiest of birthdays to you all whenever the day rolls around.
Finally…good luck to us all in this most ominous of times. Boycott, donate, march, voice your thoughts and fears. Persevere.