I've been working since I was 10 years old, and most of my life I've worked 7 days a week, and an 8-hour day would have been a short day. I've done just about everything a person could ever want to do, I've been to more than 100 countries, visited nearly every state in the U.S., you name it and there's a good chance I've done it at least once.

Along the way I've made lots of friends, some of which are entertainers and musicians who frequent the Synthzone and PSR Tutorial, and I've been lucky enough to meet several in person. Unfortunately, some of them are no longer with us and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of them.

This past year has been especially difficult with the passing of several close friends and a few relatives. Now, at age 68, I decided to spend more time with my wife, my children and grandson. I hope to enjoy what little life I have left, and cut back on the number of music jobs I perform each year. Cutting back from 350 jobs to 200 jobs meant having to tell some long-time clients that I will no longer be able to perform for them.

Those of us that have been doing this for a full-time living are keenly aware that a significant number of their audience members are almost like family. One of the senior centers where I have performed every other month for nearly a decade was among the locations that I decided would be on the cut list. I know everyone there on a first name basis.

On Wednesday I played their annual Christmas party for the last time. And, just before playing the last song I announced this would be my last performance, and that I was going into semi-retirement. (I informed the center director of my decision three months earlier, but she asked me not to tell anyone until the last performance.) The last song I performed was My Way, which resulted in a standing ovation. There wasn't a dry eye in the room, including mine.

Nearly 100 people came up to me and said they wished I would change my mind, shook my hand, gave me hugs and kisses and wished me well. The center director called today and said if I decided to change my mind there is always a place for me there.

This was a very difficult decision to make, but one that I sincerely believe all of us will eventually have to make in the not too distant future. There will come a day when we will no longer have the physical and mental ability to perform at the same, hectic schedule we now enjoy. When that time comes, and believe me you will know when it comes, you will have to bid a fond farewell to some wonderful people you've met along the way. Saying goodbye to them is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do in my life.

I'll be cutting out a number of other performance locations during the next few weeks. I'll be saying goodbye to some very dear friends. As the post indicates, saying goodbye is hard to do.

Gary