My 59th birthday has passed 2 days now. 363 days from a new decade, towards 60. I'm inspired by my sister's (Cleopatra) blogging commitment to plug away myself at the thoughts chugging away on the mental rails towards my 60th. Prepare yourself for an all-over-the-map story as I put it all together. What's funny and funnier about this is that my memory is merely embroidery on the tapestry of life so I only have quips, whispers, whimsy and snapshots to rely upon for any detail. I will say my name is Pher and that is the only name that will be closely real in this yarn. In case I do make it well past 60 I still want to have some relationships in place. 10 years ago at 49 I tried to kill myself. I think I'm better equipped to deal with this transition than my 50th. That's a good place to start. I swallowed about 45 pills, Vicodin's and benzo's in a pit of catastrophrastic (I will make up a lot of my own words) fashion, got high as I had ever been an