“And when the sun comes up on Molokai the lepers all come out and cry to Nikki Nikki Hoi to guide them to Nikki heaven.” From Nikki Nikki Hoi, written by Mark Volman and Howard Kaylan.

Well, I gotta come clean with you — and with myself. Facts are facts, and the fact is, if you are reading this on its day of posting, Monday, August 4, 2025, I will have just turned the age of 75.

That’s frightening to me. 75? That’s fucking old. I feel like I’m still 18. I act like I’m still 14. And that 14 year-old has been paying my rent since LBJ was sworn in.

To be honest, I have very little to bitch about. Too many of my friends and loved ones are dead, but that’s at least partially my fault. I’ve always liked hanging out with older people; the conversations are more interesting and the likelihood that I might learn something is greater. But I have made my own path in life and I like where I am.

My journey has confused some folks who prefer linear order to negotiable chaos, but for me it all feels natural. Over the past decade, I’ve been telling anybody who’s trapped into listening to me that I have led enough of a life to fill the dance cards of any three people. That’s how I untie Gordian knots.

Such a lifestyle promotes great opportunities, many of which have had quite a positive effect on me. In 1993, I married a world-class comics fan, Linda Johnson, which turned me into a father. Technically, “step-father” although I was alone in the bucking chute. My daughter was employed at my buddies’ comic book store here in Connecticut; she later became assistant manager until the corporation was sued into oblivion by, ahem, some of its former owners. At that time, Adriane started working as an editor on real live comic books produced by ArrogantMGMS, my aptly named encephalon company. Crushingly, Linda died 15 years ago, leaving the planet one major Guy Gardner enthusiast short. Adriane and I have continued as a family. After a life of migrating from project to project, almost always overlapping with my other in vitro projects, I started the long, slow process of settling down. In this respect, COVID helped.

This whole thing with Linda and Adriane has been the best thing that ever happened to me… by light years. And don’t get me started on our cats.

Brainiac On Banjo deforests the canyons of my mind, and like the experienced egomaniac that I am I draw upon my work in pop culture, politics, youth social services, broadcasting, journalism, and a lifetime of being annoying for profit. The origin of that title was re-disclosed right here at Pop Culture Squad last week, in case you missed it.

This is starting to read like I’m writing my own obituary, and I hope that’s not the case even though I am well past my sell-by date. But another 75 years seems unlikely, undesirable, and unnecessary. I’m semi-retired now, slaving away here at Pop Culture Squad and the fabulous and heart-warming live video Pop Culture SquadCast, I handle a few cool projects when the whim strikes and I’m still doing political stuff because banging my head on the wall is a virtue.

The photo atop this a homily to myself — I rarely withhold my ego. The shot was taken off of somebody’s television set back in 1971 well before we invented internet karma. I’m on 60 Minutes (that’s a microphone near my mouth, not a joint) on an episode called “Notes From The Underground.” This should prove once and for all that I used to have hair.

I starting writing for an political magazine when I was 15, shortly after the Gulf of Tonkin resolution was passed. Whereas my outlook has matured slightly over the years, that evolution came from an increase in my patience. Wisdom precedes blood pressure reduction.

So that’s what happened to me today. Tomorrow, being Tuesday, I will of course be joining my pal and producer Bob Harrison on the Pop Culture SquadCast (8 PM EDT, live and streaming) where I actually get to be nice to people.

I love seeing the shock on their faces.