Everyone has a “before-and-after” date. Before and after you met your soulmate. Before and after you came out to your parents. Before and after you conquered cancer. For many years, mine was January 1, 2005. I had done my last gig as a media personality in Tokyo on New Year’s Eve, the night before. Although I continued to write a few regular magazine columns and do occasional radio or TV specials, plus voice work, I would no longer be tied down to my workaholic life. I was free to roam, to discover a new life, to see what was beyond.
I spent several months on a small island in the Philippines, then traveled around: California, Mexico, France, the Deep South. In 2006, my partner and I found a piece of property in California — a 43-acre ranch in the hills outside Los Osos — and we settled down to ranch life on the slice of heaven that is the Central Coast.
I always knew there was a nuclear power plant just seven or eight miles south of us, but back then, it didn’t occupy too much of my thoughts. Like so many others, I knew too little about nuclear matters to be that concerned. I said, “Well, we’ll help shut it down, won’t we?” Without any real sense of urgency, however, the seasons slipped by.