At 30, I was honestly surprised that I was still around to celebrate that milestone. Not that I’d been doing too much crazy shit. No hardcore drugs (if you don’t count a one-off occasion in Forest Hills/Queens/New York back in 1986). There’s was, however, a lot of reckless partying. Way too much. Especially during my DJ and bartender years on the island of Gotland and in Riksgräsen. I was certainly burning the candle at both ends, trying hard to live life in the fast lane – as the Eagles song goes.
My 40th birthday was largely overshadowed by brother Tyko’s passing early that year. It would of been his 51st birthday yesterday. Hard to comprehend that it’s been 15 years since I spoke with him and heard his wonderfully contagious laugh.
After enjoying a sumptuous breakfast in bed served up by Charlotte and Elle, I started my 55th birthday diving head-first into the Öresund Strait, the narrow body of water that separates Sweden and Denmark. I’ve been doing that more or less every day and most evenings throughout this amazing summer. But today if felt extra fitting. There’s no looking back from here on out.