The First (and Most Egregious) Mistake

 How did I survive 68 years on this miserable planet in total ignorance of Jim Harrison?

I discovered him last year and I am devouring him. Like every true creative he wrote fiction, non-fiction, poetry, essays. 

He LIVED a life. And he wrote about it. And he created worlds and people in his fiction. He wrote Legends of the Fall. Did you know that? I did not.

Like many of the writers I worship, he was a drinker. I believe there is a delicate and magical connection between being a rebel - thumbing your nose at society, being creative, and booze. But you gotta be able to handle it.

I am reading a collection of his non-fiction spanning 1970 to 2015. It makes my life seem so small and meaningless.

I have to work today so naturally my humanity is suffocating. Also I returned to Heaven yesterday. I spent two hours in Old Number Six Book Depot here in my own home town. So fucking lucky to have that nirvana in my own town. So the contrast between yesterday and today is fatally disorienting.

As I read Harrison's words this morning about the mad adventures he has had (he was quite the sportsman), the states and countries he has visited, a disturbing vision from my past surfaced in my diseased mind.

I went to college at Northeastern University. In their co-op program, you attend classes for 3 months and work a real job in your major for 6 months (NU gets you the job). School 6 months, job 3 months. It flip flops. It is an excellent program. 

As an accountant my first job was with The MITRE Corporation. 1973. My desk was in a "bullpen" - a wide open room with about 20 desks. No cubicles or separators in those days. All women at the desks.

The offices were in the back of the room. All men.

Why did I not run screaming out of there on Day One? It was a horrific scene out of a science fiction movie, and anathema to my soul. I had that same job for all 5 years of my college career. My first and possibly most egregious mistake.

However, in a bizarre twist of fate, The MITRE Corporation was where I met Carol. 

Life is indeed improbable.