For the first time in much of my life, I am without a boat. I sold the Morgan 33 Out Island to a relatively young couple, they loved everything they saw when they inspected the boat, they had a very limited budget, but I, reluctantly, accepted their offer.

My health condition has worsened significantly, I can no longer breathe without supplemental oxygen and even with the O2, it's a real struggle. I will be 79 next month, and, unfortunately, I have come to the conclusion that there are things I just can no longer do, including sail single handed, which was the case most of the time for the past decade. Most of my close friends have long since passed away, my wife has some serious health issues and could not safely access the boat, so my sailing days are over.

My loving wife of 57 years is underwent a hip replacement last Thursday and is current in rehab at a nearby facility. She is doing remarkably well and with any kind of luck, should be home in two weeks. I visit her every day at least twice, hotrodding around the halls of the center on my Jazzy to get to her room. I really miss her and wake up night wondering why she is not my my side in the bed. It's a weird felling not having her next to me.

My lung condition has worsened significantly, I can no longer sing, and this is very depressing. Ironically, Carol is rehabbing at a center that I performed at for 14 years and the AD visited her and told he that everyone there really misses me. Nice!

The last song I recorded was in May when I fired up the S-950 and created backing tracks using the fast jazz style, slowed it down, then spent nearly a week putting it all together. I dedicated this song to my daughter Laura. She said it brought tears to her eyes. Laura

I'm not dead yet, but a lot closer to death's door,

Gary