Auto Biography

My destiny was for the finest -

but I often chose otherwise

I was born an American in Australia, my father having transferred there just as he had been all over the world. He was a pioneer in computer programming, authoring the Sabre reservation system for American Airlines as one of his accomplishments. His career was cut short, however, as both my parents died in a sightseeing helicopter accident while flying over Australia's famous Outback territory.

And so it was there I was raised by both Aborigines and the slick city streets of bustling Melbourne. A headstrong wild child from the start, whenever I got tired of one I ran to the other, each environment feeding me in its own way. In both places I sought out the spots of uncontrolled chaos that let me feel alive. The Outback offered a freedom I've found nowhere else in the world, as if stepping back to a legendary time where men answered to no one. But I also loved the mythic thrill of the city where anonymous gods roamed the streets and I thrived hanging out in the Bohemian districts growing up.

My foster homes were just another set of buildings far as I was concerned. I had no home. Having read Errol Flynn's autobiography, I decided to follow in his footsteps as much as I could (seemed a noble goal at the time). I was never as athletically gifted as him but I had looks and intelligence, both of which assisted me in my reckless ways as I left the safe confines of Australia to go island hopping about the tropics.

Long story short, wasn't near as glamorous as ol' Errol made it out to be - or rather, as glamorous as I read it to be. I had pictured life as an endless adventure, all one had to do was believe. Problem with being an adrenaline junkie is you reach a dead end where the excitement dies. The glitter of the world faded before my eyes. So I made my way to America, the land of opportunity, like an exotic bird who'd lost his nest and flown into port. Frankly, I had a bad feeling.

I drifted everywhere. Australia was wide open like I love, but the contrasts here are magnificent as you travel from coast to coast. I only made enough money to get by and charmed my way into beds whenever I could. Oh, there were female offers along the way, but my restless heart always searched for "more" while having my breakfast in America. It was a fine time but I knew it too had a shelf life. Then I got hit by the thunderbolt of Debby.

The great unrequited love of my love left me shattered when she moved on (or maybe ran away). Stuck in Miami, I plunged myself into its Sodom and Gomorrah delights, ingratiating myself into the "in" crowd driving fast cars and fast women, all the while longing for the one I'd lost. But at the end of the day I had nothing no matter how well I covered up the hole in my life. I realized I was being political and there's never a future in convincing others but not yourself.

So at 27 I sat down and turned to writing, something I'd sporadically done in my too turbulent youth but had lost along the way. That's when I wrote my masterpiece of the struggle for love and life's true promise. This gave me some fame but of course it was the film I made of the book that launched me to superstardom. I'd seen the world from both the top and bottom as few ever had. What poured forth was the last traces of hope in this dying world. But no matter how great thy art, it's always only half the answer.

So this where I've been and this is what I've done, from the lowest of valleys to the highest of mountaintops, it's been a wild ride and I'm ready to leave the world to itself. Mr Bond is no longer available to save you. I'm all alone now, everyone else has left.