Unfolding a life that others would rather view than be part of, the fear that carnage has taken its toll, brought me life when others fell upon death. Surviving the execution in Kashmir, the bombing after 911 in Karachi, those who died in Lebanon moments before I arrived on the Israel border as I was making my way to Cana to see where Chris turned water into wine.

It was the halls of schools that torment led to survival, which brought the taste of victory over suppression that provided the door to the adventure of a life of travel. If only the bullies of my youth could have tasted the death that unfolded as I travelled the world would have shown them who had the true strength. As I know, they would cowardly feel the fear that they so desperately wanted me to feel, which was never felt.

It was the years of being the son of a Commanding Officer that the Army never talks about that haunts a Military Brat to prove his worth to his father. A test of my strength can never be equated to his command that soldiers who would follow him to battle with death, a possible reality, made me always feel the challenge to never show fear. Few know the weakness one feels as a child for attention when so many place allegiance to one’s own father that can never be equal.

To taste victory, my youth was spent focusing on overshadowing fear with a philosophy of being on stage when aggression approached. Realizing that whenever I was bullied, it was always a performance that I could control the outcome by my strength of delivering a performance worthy for an Academy Award. Controlling came easily once the fear was replaced with assurance, realizing loss was just a time element for recovery when failure approached. A push, a shove, was a lesson in learning how to control my environment that taught me life-saving techniques. Never forgetting my youth, the day I awoke to the emptiness of the Sahara, left to die by the Bedouins, brought the strength to live. The month I had twenty dollars for room and board in Nairobi was never a challenge for survival but an avenue for discovery. The whiskeys that Princess Margaret and I shared while in a Banquet room at St James Palace, of scholars waited for us, would always be etched into a history I had with more colors than the rainbow.

How did I ever take the local bus in the heat in Dubai to meet with the Ruler to discuss my views, not once but regularly, will baffle those who are not challenged. How Pablo Escobar invited me for dinner and the DEA invited me for coffee afterwards will test most, but it brought humor to me. Few know of his extreme generosity to the poor of Colombia. Why was it that Steve McQueen bought me my first beer when I was fourteen, even allowed when it would be four years before I could drink legally in NYC.

Landing strip for UFOs; flushing toilets that are eight hundred years old; a pub that has served spirits from before America was a country; all are on my list of visited. Have you ever stayed in a monastery and seen the expression when you ask a Monk for a room key? It is worth it just to see a smile being cracked. Why is it that so many have invited me in is revealed from a life that far exceeded those who walk the same path without the vision.

Reaching to achieve limits that others couldn’t bring is a testament to my intelligence that served me well throughout life.