Timothy Allums:  

A brief synopsis/apology of my life in two pages: I am retiring now so I can become that which I always have been; musician, writer, poet, idiot. I only programmed to buy food, etc. Like most of my life, I fell into this occupation by accident. If you could recognize which piece of equipment in the room was the computer two out of three times, you got the job. Steven Hawking has written that only scientists and prostitutes get paid for doing things they would normally enjoy anyway. This can also happen to a few select musicians, writers or poets…very few. If I could have played string lead like Jerry Garcia or walking melodic bass like Phil Lesh (Grateful Dead), I would never have touched a computer. They were so much better than I could ever have been. Even pigpen played keyboard along with the harmonica. I doubt I could have survived on hallucinogens, liquor, groupies, tours and impromptu life like them but it would have been very interesting. Maybe I’ll regress to my former loves of physics and math and write some more books and music. Like the rest of us, I just keep trying to be the best I can with the resources at hand. Been there, done that… Got the t-shirt, the hat, the belt buckle, the running shoes and the scars, and oh yeah…the attitude. We are all born with a death certificate that doesn’t have the date of death filled in (most of the time). Some will let fate handle that date and others will fill the date in themselves. It all ends up the same. I know none of us are going to get out of this alive but I still refuse to drink the Kool-Aid. Maybe if they get my favorite flavor… My life is a history written on my body and in my brain, so it is very imperfect but… I’ve flown with Chuck Yeager though neither one of us was the pilot, I’ve shaken hands with royalty that are now dead, I’ve watched men walk on the moon and hoped for so much more, I’ve gone to school with Spielberg and Wonder Woman and Alice Cooper. I’ve kept and broken promises and vows when neither was justified, yet I still can’t feel another’s pain, I’ve loved a woman for Fifty years and haven’t seen her in over Forty-nine years (I searched for 45 years), I’ve learned she committed suicide nine years ago because she couldn’t stand any more pain. (I love her still) I’ve was nev...Expand for more