Birthday

I turned 39 this last week. One more year to churn out all those things I wanted to do before I am 40.

In a nice moment of synchronicity, the copy of Intersections: Essays on Richard Powers arrived. I'm one of the contributers. Although I wrote the essay almost four years ago, it was nice to see it finally in print. It made me feel a bit nostalgic for the time when I worked at that level.

Actually, it was more like an ex-smoker getting a whiff of a smoky bar. I read my essay (which was like reading for the first time, since it had been so long since I'd looked at it) and a few others. What I came away with was how much I wanted to get back to that peak level of thinking. I've been doing some work since leaving my small college: book reviews, an interview, clever emails. Yet nothing has been on the level of the academic essay or, should I ever get back to speed, the book. I miss that in more ways than I realize. Especially when I think that I left my job because I wasn't doing what I wanted to do, nor being paid enough to compensate for the lack of real thinking.

I was probably wrong on that count. As you don't miss what you've got until it's gone, I realize now how great my experience was at my little college. But then again, I don't miss the poverty and the rather predictable, and bland future that it promised. I think we made the right decision to leave, but I still haven't found the intellectual outlet I need. I'm still want for the very thing that pushed me out of Nebraska.

That said, I did have a nice weekend at a posh resort, with wine, swordfish and crisp sheets. It was a good place to turn 39.

Now back to finishing that novel before next year.