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  • My name is Jim Baker and my life has been a slow, steady, dull hum since the day I was born. Nothing, literally nothing, has ever happened to me. Not. A. Goddamn. Thing.

    I am the kind of person defined by parental occupations and expectations. Not that my parents are famous or anything. Well-respected, sure. Professionally noteworthy, slightly. It's just that try as I might to eek myself out from behind their only-slightly-better-than-mediocre shadows, I cannot.

    I was born in 1981 in a county hospital. Labor went on for the average time and I am told that it was a generally average birth in regards to total duration and general pain levels. That said, my mother got an epidural and could no longer feel her legs or her private parts, so even the previous statement is a bit of conjecture on my part.

    I grew up in a small bedroom community near the beach in Southern California in a time that everyone thinks of as better, not that it was. And take note, not on the beach, just near it.
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