I was born between the last world war and the next.

For those of you don't know me, this is a mercifully brief accounting for my years on Earth so far.

For those of you who do know me, please keep mum about the blatant inaccuracies.

I am a Chicago native and the son of two courageous, intelligent, and huge-hearted Polish immigrants.

I was born in the elevator of a Catholic hospital at approximately 5:30 p.m. JFK was president of the United States, but not for long.

Two brothers and one sister preceded me into my family. The oldest brother is with JFK now. I love them all.

I attended Catholic elementary and secondary schools, where I began to cultivate a healthy appreciation for the teachings of the Buddha. At Chicago's Columbia College, I lost my appreciation for anything healthy, but I earned a B.A. in Journalism.

Upon graduating from college, I confronted, for the first time, the gaping existential void that was my life. To stifle my angst, I got a job. And then another. At first it felt good. Then it just became a habit. My employers have included a newspaper, a trade magazine publisher, a marketing agency and a software company.

In November, 2000, a curious thing happened that inspired me to go freelance: I lost my job. The company for which I was working went out of business. The rest is history, as documented in my 1099s.

So much for my days. Now the nights: When sober, I wrote a few plays, screenplays, short stories, poems, and satirical essays. When not so sober, I wrote a lot of the same.

That pretty much brings us up to speed, except for a wonderful marriage and a recent relocation to the West Coast.

As for the most recent developments, this morning I startled a lizard just as it was about to devour a spider. Since then, the lizard has been giving me hostile looks from a safe distance. Before I get too worked up about this, I'm going to Google lizards and make sure they actually eat spiders.