Some very predictable reflections and expressions of gratitude on turning sixty years of age.

First observation: I don’t feel that old. Quelle surprise, right?

I seem to be blessed with better health and fitness at this age than many of my peers, and I credit most of that to my active lifestyle, especially my cycling.

In my experience, happiness comes from surprisingly basic, mundane pleasures: wind and sunshine, being outside in nature, physical activities like cycling and kyūdō that keep me in my body, delicious food, the companionship of other people and pets, and the comfort and security of a stable home.

Despite having had my share of wealth, accomplishments, and experiences, I don’t think those are a reliable foundation for a satisfying life. They are pleasant ways to assuage the ego, but one’s ego is a completely untrustworthy guide. I’ve been most satisfied when I’ve been of service to others, whether I found that through nurturing aspiring writers, writing software to improve medical outcomes, raising money for cancer research, or helping others find the transformative insights that come with a productive meditation practice.

I’ve been very fortunate to enjoy a life that was mostly free of struggle, trauma, illness, and pain. So many things came easily to me. My life has been blessed, relatively easeful, successful, and enjoyable. I’ll retire with a heart absolutely overflowing with gratitude and treasured memories.

There’s very little I would change. I have surprisingly few regrets and little shame. I should have done a better job with dental hygiene and my dietary choices. But my only source of deep regret is my relationships. Relationships are hard, and I’ve caused more hurt through selfishness or unskillfulness than I would have liked. If you were on the receiving end of any of that, please accept my sincerest apologies.

For whatever role you have played in my life, thank you. I’m especially grateful to anyone who chose to keep me company for an extended duration of time. And my deepest thanks and recognition to Inna, my life companion for 25 years and counting.

Be well, all!

The following is a letter from the President of the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute to the PMC organization.

I have chosen to share it with you and my sponsors to give you a better idea exactly how the money we raise is spent, and how vitally important it is to their lifesaving mission. And, of course, so you too can receive the thanks you deserve for your support of my ride.


Dear Fellow PMC Members:

First, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Thank you on behalf of so many who work so hard to conquer cancer, and even more people who count on us to do just that, and on behalf of everyone at Dana-Farber and all of the people who depend on us. You, individually and collectively, have been absolutely phenomenal. The financial support that you have provided has enabled groundbreaking research that has saved lives and will ensure that we will be able to save more lives in the future. Of equal importance, is the extraordinary spirit and positivity that you bring to your effort. This is enormously uplifting, motivating, and sustaining to all of us who work on the frontline of trying to conquer cancer.  You are right there with us, and that is enormously heartening. I thought it would be a good time to update you about what is going on in the world of cancer research and what your incredible support is doing to allow cancer research to move forward at Dana-Farber despite one of the worst external environments in the history of medical research.

Among the most important things unrestricted funds supports is our ability to recruit and retain the world's most incredible faculty of cancer care givers and researchers. You have met many of them; Nadler, Demetri, Winer, Partridge and more. Nearly all of them are here because we were able to use the unrestricted support that you provided to invest in their recruitment and to support their early work, work at the cutting edge, before it was a "sure enough bet" to be funded by the National Institutes of Health or other agencies. Indeed, these faculty members have become so important and prominent that they are the target of enormously attractive recruitment packages from many other institutes. Because of the PMC's record breaking support last year, I was able to use these funds to support retention programs that kept them here to continue their work. PMC support helps convince them that we can commit the resources they need to make the maximum impact on cancer outcomes on now and in the future at Dana-Farber.

PMC funds support work for ground-breaking, out of the box projects by our investigators in their own research programs; other funds allowed us to invest in key equipment such as state of the art sequencing and imaging facilities. One of the world's first small imager Cyclotrons, a multimillion dollar piece of equipment needed for the imaging capabilities at the frontiers in research, is being used on more mouse models in cancer. It was partly funded by the PMC. To get the remaining funding, we were able to leverage your support to obtain matching funds from the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. We now have the finest animal imaging facility in the country used to study mouse models of cancer, and we will make it available to collaborators within Harvard, and outside to the biotech and pharmaceutical world.

This past Friday, I had the honor of presenting the Osler Young Investigator Award to Dr. Kimberly Stegmaier, one of our rising faculty stars who was supported in her early work by the funds that you raised. She is now a world class developer of novel agents for the treatment of childhood leukemias and neuroblastoma using innovative genomic technologies that we used PMC funds to support. PMC funds allowed us to purchase equipment and collaborative services both at Dana-Farber and the Broad Institute. This has sustained a unique collaboration between two world-class institutions in the conquest of cancer.

This past spring, Drs. Ken Anderson and Paul Richardson and their collaborators from the Medical School and the pharmaceutical industry received the highly prestigious Warren Alpert Award from Harvard for their work in developing novel therapies at record speed. These have been the driving advances resulting in the tripling of survival time for patients with multiple myeloma. A significant amount of the funds that made this work possible came from PMC teams that have ridden in support of Drs. Anderson and Richardson. Perhaps even more importantly, some of the very earliest work of this group, working before its value was apparent, was supported by unrestricted funds that were generated by the PMC.

These are just a few of many examples that provide tangible proof that you are allowing us to forge ahead in very difficult times. In virtually every one of our disease centers and our departments, there are young investigators whose careers were launched by funds raised by the PMC. In every one of our cores and centers, equipment, expert scientists, computational capabilities, expensive supplies and expert personnel are there because we are able to support them with PMC funds. Every one of our clinics and clinical trials are supported by your funds.

You truly are marching with us on the front lines in the war to conquer cancer. It seems almost impossible to do even more than you are doing. However, if ever there was a time for even more effort and generosity, it is now. The federal government allowed "sequestration" to happen, this has resulted in a cataclysmic cut in the NIH budget. Cancer research is disproportionately affected. In addition, Massachusetts and federal healthcare and payment reform are reducing clinical reimbursements.  And, in this time of highly constrained resources, competition from many other worthy causes for traditional forms of philanthropy is more intense than ever.  It is only through the PMC that we can hope to remain aggressive and optimistic about making a difference in the lives of patients with cancer and saving even more lives in the future. Thank you as always for the incredible work that you do on our behalf.

Sincerely,

Edward J. Benz, Jr., M.D.

I’d like to preserve and share with you an email I sent yesterday to the DargonZine Writers’ List, in observance of the 25th anniversary of FSFnet’s founding.

DargonZine

Twenty-five years. Two and a half decades. A quarter century.

I’m not sure how well you remember December of 1984, but here are a couple mental snapshots that I recall.

One is taking my friend Murph aside one quiet afternoon and asking his opinion about starting a fantasy magazine that would be distributed over BITNET. It would be modeled after the handful of other newsletters my friends were sending out by email, as well as the annual literary journal I once produced for the regional Tolkien fan group. He liked the idea, as did all the friends I mentioned it to.

The other image is set a week or so later. I recall sitting in the University of Maine mainframe computer terminal cluster after a particularly egregious blizzard, composing the eight-paragraph announcement and appeal for submissions that I called FSFnet Volume 0 Number 0. Between Christmas 1984 and New Years Day 1985, I emailed it to 100 people who listed fantasy or science fiction as interests in the primitive user directory called the BITNAUTS LIST. Two thirds of them would subscribe to the zine, and submissions would begin trickling in.

Thus was DargonZine born, twenty-five years ago this week.

Some of you have been here since those early days, and some joined somewhat later. Whatever part you’ve played in our shared history, you have my deepest thanks, and my heartiest congratulations. Or if you’re really new to the project, I look forward to the contribution you bring for our future. New writers are absolutely critical for our survival and thriving, so I encourage you to be an active, vocal participant.

While I was editor, amidst the urgent pleas for submissions and critiques and mentoring work, I probably never talked enough about how proud I am of what we’d accomplished. This is probably the best opportunity I’ll have until 2034, when DargonZine will hopefully observe its 50th anniversary, and I’ll hopefully be an overripe 71 year-old. So indulge me for a few moments.

When I founded FSFnet, I was a solitary 21 year-old writer in the woods of Maine, seeking focused exchange with other aspiring writers. I wanted to grow and learn as a writer, and to share that path with people who were similarly motivated. One of the things that brings me the most pride is observing the exchange of ideas and the quality of discourse on our email list. If I look back across our time together, it’s incredibly easy to see how much each of us has developed and matured as writers. I take great satisfaction in our having done so well in accomplishing my initial goal.

What I didn’t expect was how deeply people have valued their association with DargonZine. Many of you have been here one, two decades, or more. It’s humbling and very rewarding to have built something that other people value so highly. Your dedication is visible in the time and hard work you put into your stories and critiques, your tenure here, and your willingness to contribute your time and energy to keep the project running. Many of you have made DargonZine an important part of your lives, and that’s an amazing compliment to receive.

Another thing that actually took me by surprise was how important DargonZine was for me. While I was in college, FSFnet was a fun diversion, but it was also a way to do something meaningful that other people valued, which gave me a real sense of satisfaction. I guess it was natural that would be eclipsed when I left school, began a career, and got married, but it resumed even stronger than before when I returned to the zine after my separation and divorce.

Resuming control of DZ in 1994 helped give my life focus and meaning when both career and marriage were in the shitter. Its longevity (at that time ten years!) became a major source of pride, and as my career rebounded, DZ also became a place where I could practice budding leadership and motivational skills. I suddenly and unexpectedly found myself describing DargonZine and its mission of nurturing aspiring writers as my life’s purpose. While other causes have taken priority in recent years, I really appreciate the comfort, direction, and meaning DZ has given me throughout the years.

Let me talk about those years, because many of you should take pride in our shared creation. As you know, we’re the longest-running electronic magazine on the Internet by a huge margin. In 25 years we’ve sent out approximately 200 issues with about 500 stories, totaling over 14 MB and close to 3 million words of prose. We’ve fabricated a consistent shared world with over 12,000 references to over 3,500 named things, with a complete encyclopedic reference database. These might just look like numbers until you start thinking about how much work any one of them takes to accomplish; then you really begin to understand the magnitude of our shared achievement. But more importantly than any of that, we’ve published stories from five dozen aspiring writers, all of whom have come away from that experience with valuable learnings that have made them better at their craft.

Looking back, there are particular events that I’m proud to be associated with. Naturally, the creation of the Dargon Project itself, back when FSFnet was foundering, is a major one, along with its early development. Printing the Talisman epic and several other exceptional stories were others. But out of everything, I think the pinnacle had to be going from conception to the final printed conclusion of the huge Black Idol story arc, since it involved so many writers, required such close coordination, was such a long and grueling process, and finally produced such a memorable and noteworthy result. But all our collaborations—the conspiracy, the war, the comet contest, and others—are all highlights. It was an honor to participate in and preside over many of them.

I take a little pride in my ability to twice walk away from the zine, leaving my most prized creation in others’ hands; that’s not easy. But the real pride comes in seeing people step up to the challenge and keep the thing going out of sheer appreciation, since the other editors did not have the same sense of ownership and obligation and personal ego involvement that I did as founder. Leadership of DZ isn’t the most comfortable mantle to wear, but those who have taken on leadership duties—and not just the titular editors—have done us all great honor by helping the zine survive.

And, finally, the personal relationships. I have met about three dozen of our writers, both at our Summits and outside of them, and I’m delighted to have befriended most of them. While creating a network of social bonds wasn’t even on my radar back in 1984, it’s by far one of the project’s biggest and most pleasurable results, and another source of pride and honor. The people who have written for DargonZine are family, and one of the biggest and least-expected treasures of my life.

It’s been a surprisingly long and rewarding road, my friends. We’ve seen a lot, done a lot, and accomplished a lot. You’ve made me very proud, and I hope you take as much pride and joy in DargonZine as I do. Not just in the world-record longevity which we celebrate today, but in all the good it has done for so many writers. I’m honored to have shared the journey with you, and I look forward to many years and more adventures to come.

DargonZine can, of course, be found at http://www.dargonzine.org/.

4:52am

Mar. 11th, 2006 06:30 am
4:52am.

It's like having just come from an incredible movie that touched you to the heart, over and over.

And no one else has ever seen it.

No one else has ever even heard of it.

And they'll never get the chance to see it.

You'll never be able to share it with anyone.

"Made mindless" and the Southern Cross.

Berg and the Nakeds.

From Ka-Ve to my wedding to the Paint Lady.

Car magazines and reading primers

Frankenstein and Philadelphia Freedom.

Corrugated fun.

Dodgeball and Seally Pond.

The Saco River and the quarry.

Garnet and Garnett.

Watching the most important person in my life dying in an ICU.

The Bentmen and Concussion Ensemble.

From group love in a Jersey suburb to a different kind of group love in a cottage on a Scottish loch.

Free Enterprise.

Disco duck and "sprots".

Frodo Lives! at the McClurg Court Theater.

Sink the buses and save the nukes.

He's an eviscerator.

Sweet, Abba, and Devo piped thru a jury-rigged speaker system.

Mosquito Mountain and the Devil's Triangle.

Miles and miles of roads and trails that no one else has ever seen.

The Klong Yaw.

Hundred thousand dollar tax bills, and one-cent bank statements.

The Great Lie, and Then Again, Maybe I Won't.

Blond. Egad.

The turn toward Race Point, and resting at the beach afterward.

The campanile of the New Old South Church.

Astoria, and the RR.

Nights at Bill's or the Pluff.

The Toxicmobile. The Glick. The Starship. The Devinci and the Plastic Bullet.

Quack and meow. I'm flabbergasted. Ay-ant! Juggo naiyo.

Fletcher Pratt. "Eh? Did you say munny?" Yes, shut up, Hal.

Playing ball against the wall of the DMV for years at a time.

Compersion, and the ten thousand and one unspoken crushes.

Suits, casual, and back to suits. Purple rugs everywhere. I think the Morale Committee should have considered that.

Pemaquid, Camden, Battie. My tree in Old Town.

The ComDisk, MJJWSMBB, and HSnet.

Mazar Balinu, Carmarade, and DAL-SYS.

Kenny Kinnikinnick, inventor of Gnip Gnop.

Silent summer drives back from girlfriends' homes.

And the Southern Cross.

This is what it's like to grow old.

I've lived my life thinking: while I'm young, I'll live it up. That way I'll have a huge collection of wonderful memories to relive when I get old, and can't do all those fun things anymore.

I guess I'm over the crest of that proverbial hill, because when I look back, I'm filled with hundreds upon hundreds of memories of my life.

I see now why old people feel isolated. It's not because they're alone; it's because they've lived an amazing, deeply touching novel that no one else will ever read.

So many people and places and events have touched my life, but no person will ever share the things I remember, the things that even today bring up deep feelings that toss me around like a toy boat toy boat toy boat.

If you've been part of my life, I owe you something I can never repay. You've honored me greatly, and no matter how small a part you played or how distant the events in question, rest assured that you have touched me, and I remember.

Though no one else can or will, I shall remember, until the end of my days. Namaste, my friend.

Think about how many times I have fallen.
Spirits are using me, larger voices callin'.
What Heaven brought you and me cannot be forgotten.

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