This year I will be 37. It’s an odd age. To some, 37 seems young. To others, impossibly old. It feels somehow both to me. There are still many, many things I want to see and do, but looking back at how far I’ve come I am awed by what I’ve accomplished. My journey is not over, but I have come such a long way.
In the 20 or so years I’ve been a working adult, I’ve had roughly that exact same number of jobs. Most were brief seasons here or there, filling in or helping out at this or that theater, or working on such and such film. Some lasted a couple of years. A very few, more than that. All, however, are etched into my mind:
The feature film I co-wrote and produced while still in school with two old friends and a man who was pretending to be Patrick Swayze’s brother.
The months I spent helping the students at Hopkinton High put on a production of Cabaret while their technical theater instructor was on maternity leave.
The summer I worked the night shift as a security guard at the San Antonio Museum of Art, nervously patrolling the Egyptian mummy exhibit, where the motion alarms would routinely shatter the calm at 4am every night.
The six weeks I worked for Dance Umbrella in Austin, converting an abandoned Buick dealership into a performance space, rooting around in the basement, peeling up rotting, red shag carpet and fighting off feral raccoons.
Shooting the love scene of an indie action film in the producer’s bedroom, forcing the actors to focus and remember their lines.
The year at Wendy’s, in high school, earning my own gas money.
Founding a theater company (and then running it into the ground).
Four seasons at Boston’s Publick Theater and one nightmare season at Worcester’s Foothills Theater.
To that (incomplete) list, I now add my time at The Escapist, one of the greatest jobs I’ve ever had.
From my farewell letter:
The Escapist will always strive to innovate, but at every internet company there comes a time when the pace of change slows and the focus shifts from building to strengthening. From cowboy pioneerism, to methodical homesteading. The Escapist is entering into just such a phase and, for me, the change marks an appropriate time to explore new opportunities
You can read the rest at The Escapist.