“I have resigned,” I keep on insisting whenever folks, however well-meaning, fallaciously refer to my retreat from academia as “retirement.” After all, I am not quite of retirement age; nor am I eligible for a state pension. My only recourse being a chance to set the record straight, it is incumbent on me to counter the tiresomely predicable visions that “retirement” conjures and dispel the mirage of a slow fade or a ride into an illusory sunset.
Sunset indeed! I just dodged a deluge. Such are the hazards of a life abroad: one day you are wet behind the ears, the next—and it sinks in only belatedly just how much later “next” is—you are trudging through a torrent of foul weather (let’s not call it the gutter just yet) you doubt will ever end up under the proverbial bridge. If my figures of speech were not quite so waterlogged already, the expression “sea change” might be dredged up to capture the mood at this point of departure.
Continue reading “Dilettante Me: Scattered Notes on Life after Academia”
Harry Heuser 