TURNING THE BIG 5-0!

Yeah, they're earplugs!
Although I still look really good, at fifty,
I can't take too much loud music anymore.

I DJ'd a 50th birthday bash
for a guy many years ago — I
was about thirty. I recall that 
the guest of honor appeared
very old and he seemed less
than enthusiastic about
celebrating the auspicious event. Given my daily
Jägermeister consumption in
those days, I truly doubted that
I personally would ever reach

fifty — but if I did, I certainly didn't want to become that guy.

Well, this week, I'm turning fifty.

Apparently, I survived!
 

___________________________________________________
 

 

I've experienced much of the good, the bad and the ugly that life has to offer. And although my recollections of some of those experiences have become a bit foggy over the years, I thought that I'd use the occasion of my "Big 5-0" at least to try and reflect on the last half century. A half century? Yikes!

 

I was very young in those days, yet I can recall  the psychedelic  '60s with great clarity — the civil rights movement, The Summer of Love, window fans, The Green Hornet and home milk delivery. The world was so big to me then. But I feared nothing. Once, when I was three years old,  I rode my tricycle half a mile to the ol' Five and dime. Of course my mom had no idea that I had escaped. But I split, arrived  at my destination  and then returned home safely. It was 1966 — kids could do that type of moronic stuff back then. I also can recall being the first family in the neighborhood to get color TV in 1968. That was HUGE!                                                                             The Green Hornet was cool! (I think)

Then came the arrival of the glorious '70s — in Sensurround! Ah yeah, the "C'mon, Get Happy" decade of platforms, polyester and Pet Rocks — The Bad News Bears and banana seats — disco, Duncan and Dark Shadows — Watergate and Wacky Packages — mood rings, motorcycles, Manilow  and Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!  I did sleep with Brad Pitt (twice) during the '70s (it's a long story), but that wasn't the highlight of the decade.  There was also  Evel Knievel, Chevy Novas AND Freakies! I feel sorry for the often emotionally bankrupt kids of today who missed out on that  magical era — a  simpler time before  pre-pube souls were systematically sucked dry by Microsoft, Sony and Apple.  And it was during my  naive early  teenage days  while living in Orlando, Florida  in  the mid '70s  that my  more experienced  cohorts  began educating me in the ways of the world (i.e. sex, drugs & rock and roll).

               Mmm... Marcia, Marcia, Marcia indeed!

                

I graduated from high school in the early '80s. I still don't know how I managed to pull that one off. Three months later I already had enrolled in and dropped out of college. Before I knew it, I  was married and fully consumed by promoting my band — the outrageous, award-winning hard rock combo, Dead Serios. By the end of the decade I was becoming a frequent flyer, jet setting from Florida to  the  hair band Mecca of Hollywood, California  — in steadfast pursuit of rock and roll fame and fortune. The '80s was an incredible time — especially to be a young aspiring rock dude. And although for the most part, the decade now has become somewhat of a blurry entry in my memory bank, I'm pretty sure that I loved everything about it.

This is an insert to what us old-timers know as an audio cassette.  

 

The '90s sucked — plain and simple. It was a decade-long nightmare. In fact, with the exception of the birth of my son Jesse in '93, the Kiss reunion tour in '96 and The Wedding Singer in '98, it was an era that I'd much rather forget — but can't. Thanks to the short-lived grunge movement, my good-time rock and roll dream had been dashed in the early '90s. I was still socializing with some show biz high rollers in the mid-'90s, but by the the end of the decade, my life was in total ruins. My marriage had imploded. As a result, I lost my home, my money, my security — everything. The most traumatic aspect of my divorce was dealing with a now "compromised" relationship with my son. Professionally, I had gone from performing with Dead Serios — opening for such platinum-selling acts as Anthrax, Hootie & the Blowfish, Cinderella and Marilyn Manson to bartending and DJing in a local tavern. And it was in 1999 when my mother lost her battle with cancer at age fifty-seven. In short, I couldn't wait for the new millennium.

The Wedding Singer: A rare bright moment during a dark decade.

The 2000s brought   fantastic new opportunities. I began moving forward in the field of music journalism — interviewing a host of acknowledged rock stars on a frequent basis for various print and online publications. In 2006, I was hired to work as an assistant for a famous arena rock band. At forty-three, I finally was experiencing life in the big league — traveling on a luxury tour bus, staying in swanky hotels and benefiting from  the band's various "leftovers." My  "dream" gig proved to be a mixed bag and I recounted  those personal experiences in (unfiltered) detail  via  my 2010 debut book, A SHOT OF POISON.  I soon  found myself on a national tour promoting my salacious, behind-the-scenes tell-all, and it was pretty surreal. I was (and remain) ambivalent regarding my first book, but I learned a lot and I was extremely eager to dive into my next writing project, PRONTO!  Hence, I was thrilled to release my second book, C'MON! - My Story of Rock, Ruin and Revelation on January 17, 2012.

It's funny, with  so many  years now behind me, my best days seemingly are ahead of me. Some of  the greatest  people I've  ever known have entered my life in just the last year or two. I'm back in school — Bible College to be exact, and I'm knocking the rock out of it too, I might add.  I was blessed to chaperon an amazing Christian youth camp conference in Daytona Beach this past summer. Just  last month, I  went on  a weeklong missions trip to Nicaragua where my teammates and I fed the hungry and helped heal the sick. Crazy, right? I also was brought on recently as an official staff member at East Coast Christian Center in Merritt Island, Florida, where I serve as the stage manager for the church's TNT youth ministry program — I even scrub the toilets and mop the floors too. Praise Jesus!

 

              With my friends Kevin and Chuck in Nicaragua.

When I was twenty, I merely hoped to make it to thirty — with my hearing and hairline intact. At fifty, I can claim proudly that I still have both (albeit minimal amounts). I've also surpassed my perceived expiration date. HOORAY! As the legendary Waylon Jennings once said, "If I'd known I was gonna live this long I would have taken better care of myself."

So, here it is — "The Big 5-0." Fortunately, I'm still "rockin' like Dokken 'til the break of dawn" (I think), and regardless of my age, I hope that I never become the guy who I described at the top of this story.

Looking  back  as  I  recall  some  of  the awesome birthday gifts that I've received over the years, I must admit that the greatest  gift of all  has been  having  a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. Unfortunately, it took me my first forty-seven years to figure that out. I'm not talking about a religion —  I'm talking about a relationship — and there IS a BIG difference. And given the (now) closeness of our relationship, it's His upcoming birthday on December 25th that I really want us all to acknowledge. In sum, Jesus Christ is The King of Kings, The Lord of Lords and THE reason for the season. So let's celebrate.

MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE!

-Chris

Author Christopher Long's latest book

C'MON! - My Story of Rock, Ruin and Revelation

is available NOW on Amazon.