Ian Adelstein. That's what the nurse typed on my birth certificate, as instructed by my parents on a somewhat chilly day in February of 1980. With a bit of arrogance, I might add that the Thirteenth of February will be remembered for this insignificant act when one day my name will join the ranks of other great men; Forbes, Gates, Bundy (did I say Bundy?), Howard. Sounds plausible, doesn't it? You might be curious as to who Howard is. I can't expose everything, but it has a lot to do with my extremely evident Jewish last name and a never used middle initial, H.
Born and raised here, in Brooklyn, NY, most of my life has been about as uneventful as that of a fruit fly. I'm sure I've had a few adventures and could share some grandiose tales with you, but as I find myself inevitably getting a little older and somewhat more mature, i
Most people will tell you that I never give up. I've most definitely inherited my bullishness and other psychoses from both of my parents. (Now would be a good time to introduce them, you say?) Martin works at the wire service for the New York Times and Eleanor is a former teacher, now mentor and administrator of a wonderful school buried deep in the nether regions of Brownsville, East New York. Among the other traits passed down to me by my parents would be my eccentricity. As such, I love a good mystery or conspiracy because they appeal to the imaginative side of me. If you believe in conspiracy theory then you'd just say that my inner genius is directing me to the truth, so it works out well. Conspiracy theory involves a lot of backtracking, guesswork, ingenuity, and stamina. I credit myself with possessing all these Super-hero-li
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