Note: This is the final post for which guesses will be considered for prizes. Once the final entry goes up tomorrow, that's it for prizes, because tomorrow's entry will be so rife with clues and giveaways that you really won't deserve a prize for getting the answer! So study up on this one, and meet me back here Friday afternoon for the final entry.
I have continued to teach and write over the years, and have worked in many other capacities, as well. It seems so difficult for me to settle at one thing, or even, at one location! I consider myself not so much an "American" as a New Yorker (yes, there is a difference!), even though I split my time between New York and Austria. I feel that one day--yes, one day soon, I shall return to Oxford for a bit, if I can pursuade C. to go with me. My heart was stricken with love for C. some many years ago, when he was but a budding American poet of only 18 years, and our relationship has maintained all this time, and he remains my companion.
Among all the other labels I've carried over my lifetime of work, I have a new one to add since last I updated this journal. It seems I have, in the interim, won the Pulitzer Prize for my poetry! Quite an honor, if not the dandified celebration of excess that is the Nobel prize ceremony; but then I've never been one for excess. And of course, T.S. Eliot has won the Nobel prize for poetry; I find it fitting. Our lives have never quite unmeshed themselves from each other, have they?
These are supposedly enlightened times in which we're living, but the more things change...well, you know the rest of that cliche'. Young people don't thirst for knowledge the way they did once, and society shall suffer for it, I fear. At times I resist the urge to rush some poor unsuspecting drone on the street and shake him by the collar, shouting, "Look, Stranger! Be AWARE! Be aware of yourself, your surroundings, your very LIFE! Why, things could be falling from the sky as you trudge on in your myopic, oblivious way, and you'd never know!"
But I resist, and I write, and I teach, and I learn, as ever.
For much better fare than this feeble attempt at blogging as persons of note throughout history, do yourself the treat of ordering Paul Davidson's book:
The Lost Blogs: From Jesus to Jim Morrison--The Historically Inaccurate and Totally Fictitious Cyber Diaries of Everyone Worth Knowing