Sometimes, When You Are Not

The Years After Graduation Hardened Me Into Someone Quite Different From The Strutting Graduate Who Left Campus That Day Headed For New York City, Ready To Offer The World His Talent. The World, I Discovered. Was Not All That Interested.

I Used To Be A Classic Workaholic, And After Seeing How Little Work And Career Really Mean When You Reach The End Of Your Life, I Put A New Emphasis On Things I Believe Count More. These Things Include: Family, Friends, Being Part Of A Community, And Appreciating The Little Joys Of The Average Day.

You're Not Going To Fix Things By Helping 65-year-olds Or 75-year-olds For Any Long Run.

I Believe He Died This Way On Purpose. I Believe He Wanted No Chilling Moments, No One To Witness His Last Breath And Be Haunted By It, The Way He Had Been Haunted By His Mother's Death-notice Telegram Or By His Father's Corpse In The City Morgue.

I Find Interesting Characters Or Lessons That Resonate With People And Sometimes I Write About Them In The Sports Pages, Sometimes I Write Them In A Column, Sometimes In A Novel, Sometimes A Play Or Sometimes In Nonfiction. But At The Core I Always Say To Myself, 'is There A Story Here? Is This Something People Want To Read?'