FRESH HELLS AND B.A.'S

Imagine having a collection of 45 rpm singles but not one damn yellow snap-in for playing them. Or trying to center one of those singles on a record player only to have it wobble and orbit away. That's how I often imagine many things just out of reach, constantly unsettling and threatening to go awry.

I think of folks chasing down work that feels right. Those of us who were lucky enough to connect quickly with instinctively right careers can't begin to fathom the fresh hell of having nothing work out. I'm watching it happen with my 30something nephew and a range of 20 to 60something friends. How I'd hate any of them to know how amazing it is to be in sync with your career, a feeling of well-being as essential as a heartbeat and as affirming as breath.

Don't know about you but I'd found my career by age 21. I remember sitting at the hideous formica table in the kitchen (round, white, cold) convincing my parents it was smarter for me to accept a job offer in public radio than complete my college degree. Of course that wasn't quite how I put it; naturally I'd promised to finish my B.A. (I was 3/4's through). And it wasn't such a big leap as a student at Skidmore's University Without Walls, where I got credit for work experience and didn't need to be in a classroom to learn.

It was a clever plan. Except. Work was just too much fun to bother with extracurricular study. I never did get my degree. In truth, it's suited my 'tude just fine and on the few occasions when lying was called for, I just conjured up that silly ol' degree. It's only apparent affect on me has been a recurring dream in which I'm failing elementary school because I won't go to math. And I hardly believe that dream is actually about that.

Where I'm going is this: the right career is a yellow snap-in center that enables you to sing the story of your life. When some of us don't have the snap-in, the lyrics get distorted and the song goes awry.