The Thursday! Newsletter 1-25: A Middle-Aged Hobbit
Volume 1, Issue 25
Today is my birthday!
Were this any other newsletter, I'd write a little speech full of things like how fortunate I feel to live among such excellent and admirable Hobbits and how I don't know half of you half as well as I should like and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve. Then I'd yell "dinner", throw down a smoke bomb, slip a certain Ring into my finger, and hare off to my friends the Elves over there in HappyElfLand where the beds are big and comfortable and there's lot of singing and mead and whatnot. Especially the whatnot. I like the whatnot.
But that's not me. I couldn't be a classy Hobbit like that. More likely, I'd be one of the disreputable Hobbits -- not quite as bad at the Sackville-Bagginses, but certainly not all highfalutin as a certain rich Baggins and his layabout nephew. Probably a Bolger or a Boffin.
Of course, were I a Hobbit, I'd be reckoned quite young still at 53, a Hobbit just entering middle age and still perhaps to be forgiven for daydreaming and not yet settling into his life's work. Bilbo Baggins, the aforementioned highfalutin halfling, went on his great quest at the age of 51. I very nearly wrote "took on" instead of "went on", which would have been silly. Bilbo didn't take on his quest so much as he was forcibly set onto the road by a pushy wizard and a bunch of dwarves. I don't think he ever truly wore the mantle of hero comfortably, though he certainly acted heroically many times over. He certainly didn't see himself as important in the Shire, though other Hobbits certainly treated him as such.
I do not think I will ever face down a dragon, steal an Arkenstone, nor baffle a passel of quarrelous Trolls but that doesn't mean I'm meant to put up my feet and grump at younger folks like old Odo Proudfoot. I'm older than I was yesterday but not as old as I may be tomorrow. I am what I am right here and now and I have only today to do something interesting, useful, and good. At this moment, that something is this newsletter and I hope you've enjoyed it to the point, despite how far I've gotten into the Tolkien weeds. Later on, I'll head out to handle the weekly laundry chore and then out for a celebratory lunch at a new restaurant with my lovely wife. Nothing exciting, really. Nothing like fighting hungry spiders or being snatched from the top of a burning tree by a friendly eagle. Then again, Bilbo didn't start out exciting either. He started on his porch, smoking a pipe. Quietly. He had a conversation with a friend, that became...more. Dwarves showed up. He moved farther and farther from comfortable, more and more distant from the life he thought he was meant to lead. Then there were spiders and eagles and a riddle contest and a Ring and enough adventure that, later he was brave enough to stand under the gaze of a dragon and say:
I come from under the hill, and under the hills and over the hills my paths led. And through the air, I am he that walks unseen.
I am the clue-finder, the web-cutter, the stinging fly. I was chosen for the lucky number.
I am he that buries his friends alive and drowns them and draws them alive again from the water. I came from the end of a bag, but no bag went over me.
I am the friend of bears and the guest of eagles. I am Ringwinner and Luckwearer; and I am Barrel-rider.
That's a pretty good hype track, don't you think? I could do with a hype track like that myself. You never know. I'm starting small, with this newsletter this morning, but who knows?
So. I've talked a lot about my birthday and Bilbo Baggins, but what's all that to you? Well, for one, today is also a day for you to do your stuff, whatever that stuff is. You've read this, but then what? Is today the day you'll step from your comfortable little spot and step out into a little adventure? Step out. The path won't always be comfortable. In fact, it won't often be comfortable. But you'll walk that path and have fun and find interesting and rewarding things. Why not? Is today the day you find just enough bravery to share the art you've been creating in secret, the work of your heart that feels so right to do but that you don't dare share with the world? Share it. The whole world won't like it. I can tell you that for sure. In fact, most of the world won't even notice it. The world is huge and we are quite small all my ourselves. But someone will notice and really dig it. Maybe more than one will notice. Maybe a bunch! Who knows? You have to try.
Today is my birthday, but we all get the present. In fact, the present is all we ever get for sure. Might as well unwrap it and see what we can do with it!
(And before I forget, let me say to you what Bilbo said to the people of Esgaroth on his birthday, stuffy head and all: "Thag you very buch"!) - - - - - - - - - - - -
What I Wrote and Read Last Week
A friend of mine made a comment on the condition of the car in the picture I used as a writing prompt, which inspired "The Last Subway Car".
Another friend of mine made an off-hand comment about a "deadstream" as the counterpart to a livestream, which became the poem "The Deadstream".
Stories can come from anywhere, if you're willing to let them!
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Here Are the Arts and/or Letters I Promised
No art this week! Instead, here's a quote from a fascinating conversation between podcaster Tyler Cowen and poet Dana Gioia on becoming an "information billionaire" and a whole bunch of other interesting things. I got there by following Austin Kleon down a poetry rabbit hole. The landing was pretty solid, I think.
COWEN: If there’s someone young and bright and they want to also become an information billionaire, what non-obvious advice would you offer? Yes, read a lot of books, go to art museums, yes, of course, but what’s the non-obvious insight you have into this process?
GIOIA: Well, I don’t think you can give people advice to this that don’t have the inclination. I think part of it is to pay attention to what interests you, not into this kind of novelty-driven commercial culture we’re in. My students, and I would ask them, how long do you spend each day looking at tweets? They say, “Well, about 90 minutes.”
Punk yourself out of the daily ephemeral culture and immerse yourself into things that are going to be still there 10 years later or 100 years later. I think the distractions for younger people today are so extreme that they learn very little about the past. Therefore, they learn very little about the present, because you can’t understand anything unless you have a point by which to judge it as a point of perspective.
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One Last Thing
This is where I ask you to help me out. I don't like asking for help but there's no way I can share Thursday! far and wide without wonderful people like you who dig what I do and are willing to tell other people about it. Please, feel free to share this newsletter with anyone you think will love it like you do. You can also tell them about my cool book, give it a solid review, or buy an autographed copy (ask and I'll tell you how!).
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As always, you can always talk back to me by hitting the reply button! I can't promise I'll always answer back, because I'm quite forgetful, but I'll read everything you send.