Twenty-Nine Years Later

View from my porch on a late spring evening

Today is my twenty-ninth anniversary as a self-employed person. (File this under “things that make no sense.”)

On May 30, 1997, I walked out of my old firm for the last time. Three days later—Monday, June 2, 1997—I awoke as a self-employed person, doing research and writing for other lawyers. I had one client and a box of business cards. No alimony, no trust fund, no independent income. In the corner of my living room sat the desk my parents bought for my bedroom in 1968. A computer sat on that desk, a hand-me-down from my father’s office that was still connected to the dial-up modem I’d used four years earlier, when I was in law school.

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Changing Times

Photo credit: Aron Visuals on Unsplash

Thirty-two years ago today, I came home from a temp job. Shortly after I got home, my parents pulled up, and my father put on a backpack as they walked across the yard from the parking area to my door.

Let me back up a bit.

Two days earlier, on Saturday, June 30, 1990, I moved my piano into my new apartment on in a three-family house on Main Street. The next day, my family and friends moved all my stuff from my apartment in Stamford to the new apartment. My friend, Scott, stuck around long enough to help me spread out the living room rug. Then, they all left, and it was just the cats and me.

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