For most of us, most of the time, the passage of another year is not particularly notable. To be sure, there are some years—ones marked by births, deaths, marriages, graduations, new careers—that stand out. For the most part, however, they tend to run together, their impact cumulative. Aging is a gradual process for a long time (and then, sometimes shockingly, it isn’t). But the shocks are so great precisely because the default setting of living happens in slow motion.
All that said, I would like to take a moment in this, my final posting in this space for this year, to note that I have had what I regard as a notably good 2023. It was a year of gainfully employed children, the acquisition of a notably fine daughter-in-law, and a new book that received a surprisingly strong reception. Indeed, it has been many years since my work has achieved this much attention (the last comparable time was with The American Dream back in 2003). I had hoped I could get one more such run, and I did. I will not expect, or need, any more.
I will note that in the ten years between 2013 and 2023, I published ten books and revised two others for new editions (one of those twice). I will frankly state I am proud of this, even though I know without a doubt that these were modest productions by a man of finite talent. I am grateful that I had the means to do so in terms of health, a supportive family, and editors willing to take me aboard (a struggle that has never gotten easier). I know the day is fast approaching when my book publishing career will end. Though I sometimes find myself wondering why I do it, the fact is I’m most likely to stop because I’ll soon be unable to find anyone to take my work. But 20 books over a period of 33 years is enough time and attention for any man.
I’m also unsure how much longer this little newsletter experiment will continue. But here too I am grateful—especially to you, dear reader. I hope you can identify similar sources of satisfaction, whether 2023 was a particularly memorable year or not. My best to you as we head into a year of uncertainty. May our private lives sustain us in times of public upheaval. —Jim
Jim, it's always a treat to read your articles. I'm proud to know you and still be in touch. I agree with you, that the years to tend to run together. At 76 now, it seems the older I get, the quicker time passes. Earlier in December, I put the outdoor lights on a pine tree in my back yard. The tree is about 10-12 feet tall now and growing taller and wider each year. It began as a tiny seed given to me as a wedding favor about 15 years ago by a former student who got married out east. The seed package said it was a Sequoia tree, but it turned out to be a sturdy pine tree. I have three of them now, as the parent tree has produced two offspring. Whenever I put the lights on, I say to myself, "Didn't I just do this, like a month or two ago?" But in fact, it was a year ago. Same with taking the lights down after the holidays. And wasn't it just last year that you were in my history class? Oh, wait, that was 43 years ago.
Great to have your thoughtful company through time, Jim.