Well, The Signal of
Before I write anything else, let me say "thanks" for all the replies. There are surely differences on opinion and differences in perception. I appreciate the opportunity to read them all.
The headhunter at Stanford called yesterday to tell Pam that she is by far the strongest candidate, and while they can't officially offer the position and begin negotiating a package until after the last candidate has been interviewed this Friday, they did ask for my resume so they might find something for me as part of the package and they asked if they might fly us out to show us the faculty ghetto and housing possibilities in the surrounding area.
I've not met any of you in person, but I do feel comfortable talking about this here nonetheless. I have to tell you, I'm really apprehensive. I left work early today to visit Valhalla, and even in the blistering heat and punishing humidity, it felt like heaven to me. I sat there and thought about a lot of things:
The friend I've made in the man who sold Valhalla to me. He's 86 and an astounding man. Self-made every step of the way, genuine, talented, skilled, brilliant, kind, and he puts up with me! You just don't run across folks like that every day. You get to be friends with a precious few, and you get to live next door to one maybe once every few lifetimes.
The comfort I know our aging parents derive knowing that we are near and always available at a moment's notice. They are the primary reason we moved to IL from Santa Barbara in the first place.
My job. This has been the second job that I have actually liked more than I've disliked in a long and tortuous work history. I work with smart productive people who genuinely appreciate what my staff and I produce and maintain for them.
The Midwest. Home! And all of the comfort and sense of belonging that goes with Home! Not to mention seasons.
Chicago. It has everything. Everything cosmopolitan at city-central, and everything I like about rural life within a reasonable distance. Even in the cosmopolitan areas, people have more a sense of genuineness that I've experienced elsewhere (generally).
Thor! (enough said!)
Being a spousal hire. I earned the job I have now. I am respected for what I know and what I do. No matter how good one might be, being a spousal hire is tantamount to hanging a sign that says "quarantine" around one's neck.
Pam. She is absolutely awesome, and in fact one of the very best in the nation at what she does. She is currently laboring under a fairly insecure superior, and a great deal of what she is capable of doing is going unrealized. If you check my bio, you'll see that I was a symphony and studio trombonist for many years. I always dreamed (still do!) of making it into an orchestra like the Chicago Symphony. Never made it. The Stanford position is Pam's Chicago Symphony. I can't keep her from that. The hard part is that if I said right out "I don't want to go." that would be the end of it. We'd stay.
Good heavens. I think I'll be miserable if we go. Pam will be bitterly (as in life-long clouds) disappointed if she passes up this genuine opportunity of a lifetime. We're married 24 years, and have known each other for 30. I love her more each day I have the privilege of waking up and saying "good morning" to her. Since she puts up with me, I'd say she loves me too. There is real strength in that - a life-saver to which we can cling and a compass to guide us. I hope the path becomes clear and things work out, either way.
Wow, did I write all that? Sorry for the length.
Jim
