A Farewell To Readers
By Ron Marr (04/15/04)
I have never been accused of living life in an ordinary manner. Years ago - while writing for the jet set magazines of South Florida - I became frustrated with the incompetency and forked tongues of society, bidding a happy good-bye to corporate America. That decision was simple. I have no time for the indecisive or incompetent, and find no purpose in wasting oxygen on those who prefer fantasy over common sense.
So I split, ending up in Montana and founding my own magazine. For a decade I have lived in the backwoods of the Rockies, and as those who reside here full-time will attest, the rural west does not make for an easy life. Jobs are non-existent and people scramble for every penny. The trade-off is a treasure trove of natural beauty, and the ability to live life on one's own terms.
This decade has been interesting. Good times, bad times, joys, sorrows...it's gone by fast. I'm glad I was allowed the experience, but if I'm honest with myself, I remained a few years longer than I should have. I'm not good at putting down permanent roots, and sooner or later the luster of a place no longer brings me a smile. There are always new places to go, new challenges that need to be discovered. I'm one of those people that will never be content with a life bereft of the novel or unique.
And so...I am out of here.
As most of you know, I moved to Idaho a year ago. This was a disaster of huge proportions, and though I won't go into the details right now (you'll have to wait for the book percolating in my head...suffice it to say I've never lived anywhere more bizarre, violent or twisted) I will have moved on by the time this column sees print. Where I will move to remains to be determined
Because it was my home for so long, and because I wrote of it so much, some long-time readers have assumed I would of course move back to Montana. They would be mistaken, and I can only point out that the words of this (or any) writer reflect but a tiny part of their desires, dreams or personality. Montana is a great place, but it is no longer my home. It was fun while it lasted, but is not a land to which I will be returning.
You see, I have a different take on life. Each place is an experience. Each place is part of a story. To me, doing one thing or remaining in one place is a little like reading the same chapter of a book day after day. It may have been a good chapter, but after you know the words by heart a certain resentment will set in. Better, I think, to quickly enjoy the chapter and turn the damned page.
The last two years have been more than sad, unsettled and harrowing (again...be patient...the book will be a doozie). As I recall, fate started throwing bombshells at me as well when I was tardy in leaving my former home on the southern Gulf. Failing to live up to one's destiny results in suddenly being barraged by a plague of unpleasant events. You have losses and heartbreaks, injury and death. Perhaps these things are coincidence and perhaps these things are simply a cosmic wake-up call. Got me. Listen to them early on and you walk away unscathed. Ignore the signs and you will hobble out on crutches. Personally, I'm a bit deaf. No crutches just yet, though I do have a pronounced limp.
All I know is that I stayed in the Rockies against my better judgment, complacent with past success and perhaps a little afraid of going to an unknown locale and starting on unknown adventures. I had my chance to leave easy a couple years back...but I fought against those inner voices which we all possess but seldom acknowledge. Thus, I am now leaving the hard way. I am leaving hungry and scarred...forced to get creative again, forced to think, forced to sharpen my vision and look for opportunities which hide in the corners. Maybe that's not a bad thing.
And so, gentle readers, the time has come to thank you for your loyal support over the years. This is going to be my last column...at least for awhile. For the next several months I will be wandering, on the road and unable to always have regular contact with computer or keep up with deadlines. I will be sending pieces to newspapers and websites as time allows, but the contact will be sporadic.
It's been a pleasure writing for you these past ten years, and while there will be more to come, this pen is going more or less silent for a time. I wish all of you the best, and again, thank you for your many letters, thoughts and comments.
And that is that. The dogs are packing their bags and the truck is full of gas. It's time to log some road time.
I have no idea where I'm going...I only know where I've been
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