XXVI

On June 23, 1984, at 11:24am, I was dragged, kicking and screaming in protest, into this world. The site of my abduction was Livingston, NJ, at St. Barnabas Medical Center. This crime against humanity and myself occured 26 years ago today.

I remember very little of the day. Dare I say that I actually remember nothing. Traumatic experiences, as I understand it, have a way of remaining hidden in the psyche. We bury these thoughts so that we can function, unhindered by our destructive memories.

LUCKILY, knowing that the world would be interested in hearing my side of the story, I immediately began work on my memoirs. I was determined to bring a frightening realism to my story, and hoped to inspire those who would surely follow in my footsteps.

Just some of the excerpts from these early journals include how, at two months, I had already mastered NASA's space programs, and how in August I captained the space shuttle DISCOVERY on its maiden Earth orbit. On January 28th of the following year, I attended (and performed a solo in) the recording of "We Are The World" by USA For Africa, but I was later cut due to poor diction, and replaced by Cyndi Lauper. In August of '85, a little over one year old, I remote navigated the submarine craft ARGO to the crash of the R.M.S. Titanic, and negotiated the deal that would release the video game TETRIS to the public market.

The next few months were spent weaning myself off of the bottle. Alcoholism had become a major crutch in my early years, and though I've never revealed it to the public, I did manage to leave it behind. I haven't had a single sip since.

In 1987, at almost three years old, I made a plea to the White House requesting that the day of my sister's birth (Jan. 19) be made a Federal Holiday. My request was formally turned down, unfortunately. I was told that it conflicted with Ronald Reagan's personal "Space Between Holidays" rule, and that they had just observed the first Martin Luther King Jr. day a year prior on January 20. To this day, I think we could've gotten that one, Christina, if you'd just been born one damn year sooner.

Flash forward a few years. The birth of my brother, Daniel (suspiciously followed 10 days later by the now infamous 1991 Perfect Storm), and our short-lived partnership as fighter/manager in the world of professional wrestling. He would become known as "The Jersey Demon" and enjoy moderate success in the coming years. A tragic accident involving him and the dismemberment of another pro wrestler ended his career a little short. Daniel was aquitted of all charges.

There was my capture and return of John Wayne Gacy after he escaped an Illinois correctional facility just hours before he was scheduled for execution (those events are, to this day, denied by media and law enforcement to have ever occured). My foiled robbery of Pablo Picasso's Tête de Femme from the London Gallery, and my spoken word/underwater saxophone performance of the song "The Morning After" at the funeral reception of British actor Roddy McDowall.

Flash past all of that. Here we are, June 23, 2010. I am an aspiring performing artist, despite creativity not being my strong-suit. I work for a children's enrichment company, and I audition often in New York City, USA, hoping and begging to be allowed the opportunity to play pretend in front of grown ups.

Hopefully...just hopefully, something interesting will happen this year.