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Ten Year Plan

There will come a time in your life—if it hasn’t already—that you’ll own a suit worn almost exclusively at funerals. I have one. 

The last time I put it on, there were two programs in the inside pocket—one folded within the other—from the last two funerals I had attended. Jim O’Rourke’s memorial service a few weeks ago has only piled more frosting on an overly rich cake. Too much of that diet will put me in an early grave.

“‘The time has come,’ the Walrus said, ‘to talk of many things: of shoes and ships and sealing wax…'” and of all that is unfinished in my life. I have decided to create a ten-year plan, which, of course, assumes ten more years of life.

Triage

Two long, very long, bus rides during the last week afforded some time to ruminate (not always a good thing, in my case) and I’ve identified some goals from the experience. The completion of several long-standing projects has become very important, a bucket list that I must fit beside the normal job of teaching:

Four other long-term research projects must also be completed for personal reasons; there are intensely interesting to me (perhaps to me alone) and the research files will make little sense to anyone else when I am gone.

So much for the academic side of life. The other loose ends are legion and require at least as much attention: my failing health, deteriorating properties and years of fiscal irresponsibility. So in the next week, look for a schedule that will take me to 2020.

As ever, your advice and criticisms are welcome.

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