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I was born on May 29 1952 at Boston’s Richardson House. My mother’s labor had taken hours and she had always claimed that she had gone down to the Valley of Death to deliver me. I was born healthy, so my first day on Earth was a good one.

Many followed. Too many to come, but shared good days for the Grand Collective are much fewer.

In the 1950s the launch of Sputnik.

Man’s first ascent to Space.

We were meant to be frightened by the success of the Soviet Empire, but my father brought us out to the backyard of our house on Falmouth Foresides, Maine and pointed out a speck of light traversing the night sky.

“This is a great moment.”

The Maine native wasn’t a Commie. He was an electrical engineer and loved Progress.

The next great days for humanity were the election of JFK in 1960 and the Berlin Airlift but that dark decade descended into tragedy with Kennedy’s assassination followed by the murders of Malcolm X and Martin Luther King as well as the Viet-Nam War and the USSR crushing the Prague Uprising.

The 1960s was a time of despair until NASA reached the Moon and Woodstock lifted our hearts to a future of peace and love. Rock and Rock, freedom,and the power of peace.

The Age of Aquarium was cut short by Altamont.

We were a horror, but we didn’t give up on our dreams, despite the Forces’ of Evil relentless assault on Humanity.

We glorified Disco and Dancing during the Sexual Revolution. Richard Nixon was impeached by Congress. Punk liberated the Soviet Union. A black man, Barack Obama, was elected President and the Boston Red Sox finally broke the Babe Ruth Ruth Curse in 2004.

These events brought us together.

Too few, but as with the rescue of the Thai soccer players from the caves south of Mai Sai we were one and we will be one again.

Chai Yo!!!