Today I changed my profile photo, from the one on the left...to the one on the right.
The two photos were taken within a few weeks of one another about seventeen and a half years ago. The one on the right was taken at the 36th International Technical Communication Conference, May 14-17, 1989, in Chicago, the month before what I know as "Youie Summer" began—and during which the photo on the left (that's a Stetson) was taken. In retrospect, I could see signs in Chicago that something like "Youie" was coming. I remember sitting in the lobby of my hotel meditating and feeling tingly premonitions.
A lot has happened since 1989, since that manic summer . My journal, Youie: You Must Change Your Life (the subtitle taken from the last line of Rilke's poem, "Torso of an Archaic Appolo"), consumed my manic energy and, its central "prophecy" unfulfilled, left me depressed and vulnerable to a half-year bout of chronic fatigue syndrome. Followed by a heart attack (apparently provoked by an allergic reaction to a powerful antibiotic). Toastmasters and a run at public speaking. Brain surgery for a pineal tumor. Hurricane Fran and a dozen big trees down in our yard, all close enough to have hit the house if they'd fallen differently. Retirement after employment with one company for thirty years. Brief but interesting stint as a telemarketer of pre-paid cremation. New job in public postsecondary education administration. Literary agency. Web design. The Moristotle blog. Encounter with the writings of Sam Harris. Awareness that the foregoing list is arbitrary. It mentions no dogs, leaves out my wife of almost 41 years,doesn't mention my dear son or my dear daughter, or any of my wonderful friends. Nor the death of a sister, or of our mother.
Must stop. Becoming too emotional.
The two photos were taken within a few weeks of one another about seventeen and a half years ago. The one on the right was taken at the 36th International Technical Communication Conference, May 14-17, 1989, in Chicago, the month before what I know as "Youie Summer" began—and during which the photo on the left (that's a Stetson) was taken. In retrospect, I could see signs in Chicago that something like "Youie" was coming. I remember sitting in the lobby of my hotel meditating and feeling tingly premonitions.
A lot has happened since 1989, since that manic summer . My journal, Youie: You Must Change Your Life (the subtitle taken from the last line of Rilke's poem, "Torso of an Archaic Appolo"), consumed my manic energy and, its central "prophecy" unfulfilled, left me depressed and vulnerable to a half-year bout of chronic fatigue syndrome. Followed by a heart attack (apparently provoked by an allergic reaction to a powerful antibiotic). Toastmasters and a run at public speaking. Brain surgery for a pineal tumor. Hurricane Fran and a dozen big trees down in our yard, all close enough to have hit the house if they'd fallen differently. Retirement after employment with one company for thirty years. Brief but interesting stint as a telemarketer of pre-paid cremation. New job in public postsecondary education administration. Literary agency. Web design. The Moristotle blog. Encounter with the writings of Sam Harris. Awareness that the foregoing list is arbitrary. It mentions no dogs, leaves out my wife of almost 41 years,doesn't mention my dear son or my dear daughter, or any of my wonderful friends. Nor the death of a sister, or of our mother.
Must stop. Becoming too emotional.
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