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For years my life was reduced to an About page. Awards I received while working in Hollywood (X), Peabody Award, Writers Guild of America Award, People’s Choice Award. Titles I held, Screenwriter, Executive Producer, Vice President/Creative Director.  Hit shows I wrote for.  Studios and networks that hired me to write pilots and movie scripts.  Venues I spoke at, The Smithsonian Institution, The Museum of Broadcasting.  Theaters my stage plays were shown in, ad agencies I worked for, art galleries that presented my paintings and sculpture.  Then one day it occurred to me.  My life has been much more than a list of credits, hell, I scrambled from the ledge of a building in Needle Park to the heights of Madison Avenue and Hollywood.  As a teenage newspaper reporter I wangled my way into interviews with James Brown, The Temptations, Martin Luther King.  I snuck into the shattered Gaza Strip after the Six Day War, I hung out with Muhammad Ali, I survived an airplane crash.  I ate dinner with Jerzy Grotowski.  I slept in the Mojave Desert to watch the first Space Shuttle landing, partied with the NASA geniuses, shot the breeze with astronauts.  My children witnessed their Dad ascend from a crappy walk-down apartment they nicknamed The Roach Motel to a sprawling mansion complete with Otis elevator that I quickly sold for my freedom.  Yes, I have an About page, but my life has been way, way More About…

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