Saunder
He said he wouldn't allow himself to desire things that he did not think were practical. No sense in wanting lobster for lunch; he would instead want a sandwich. This outlook spared him any unnecessary disappointment. By that same logic, he did not permit himself to contemplate unlikely desires.
I asked him whether he would ever consider composing a list of impractical, not readily accomplished aspirations. I wish I could remember his counter-question, but I can only vaguely remember that it probed the whether or not such a list would be meaningful.
If you could have any three things right now, what would they be?
A boat -- nothing gilded or overbearingly large, moderately sized and nice.
For the girlfriend to live in the same city.
To know exactly what kind of orthopedics to go into.
The answers were straightforward, honest -- speaking to some of the more pressing concerns of the moment.
He'd had time to give the boat some thought previously, in recent conversation with his friends JF and MG (different MG). They had discussed what they would do with lottery winnings. JF and different MG had considered completing medical school, but our MG -- the young protagonist MG -- said he would take a leave of absence, buy a boat, and sail the world.
If he could know his specialty, it would save him a lot of time. He would know what figures to shoot for in class or on boards (rather than a vague and vertiginous better than best). I wanted to know not just "orthopedics," but something more precise than this: hand surgeon, he offered as a suggestion. He was just the other day walking to or from the cafeteria for coffee listening to a This American Life episode where the guest, the author of a book, discussed his theory that most people will fail to choose correctly in two important life choices: who to marry and what vocation to pursue. He appeared quite set on choosing right.
The girlfriend he had begun dating only ten months ago, after beginning medical school. She was back in Ithaca finishing her fourth year as a prelaw student, and it seemed they didn't see each other quite so often as he imagined she'd like. It was also difficult for him, he said, but medical school did a lot to help him forget that particular trouble. He said he thought it might be harder for her -- and in the same breath added that this might be a skewed expectation, inflected with the bias that women may feel more keenly.
He leaned back into the bench, sinking his heels and slouching into his signature nonchalant affect. She was so cute that he was dying to hook up with her, but instead he ended up telling her all his feelings. When it became clear to the two of them that he'd go right on telling her his feelings and wanting to hook up with her, she allowed both on the condition they start dating, so they began dating, and it had gone very well.
He might bargain the gift of instantaneous fluency in one or another language (probably German) in exchange for one or another of these.
If you couldn't do medicine tomorrow what would you do?
MG finished an undergraduate degree in bioengineering at Cornell in seven semesters. He spent the following six months working before matriculating in medical school the following fall. The way he told his story, his life has been a straight-shot to a career in medicine, from childhood to present. If he couldn't do medicine, he would go into finance to make "a boatload of money" or if money were no objective, he would perhaps dabble in music. He rated himself an amateur with no real odds of success, but thought it would be something he could find fulfilling in and of itself.
Again, if money were no matter, he might become an inventor of medical devices. The issue was: How can I be guaranteed to help as many people as possible. This seemed especially important to him as a measure of success. He absolutely needed to do something that would help people.
I'm boring myself with writing this, and I know it's on me. I'm missing something. I feel like the story's right in front of my mind, and I'm staring blind.
So young! Whose music would he most like to have as his own? There was a lot of deliberation as to whether that would be cheating before he settled on Mozart or Barber's Adagio for Strings. Why? Because of the range of impact and how universally these pieces are understood. (The sorrow of Barber's Adagio.) That preoccupation with fame, impact, success! Nothing about happiness or love, though perhaps those were implied. Even knowing he may not know what he wants, he has his list of desirable possibles -- as if we can circumscribe want or future so succinctly. The way he tells his story, it's all the best laid plans of mice and men gang aft more or less according to schedule. I asked so many extraneous questions and received so little deviating from that narrative.
To live close to water. To have a boat. The right balance of movement and stasis? No, he said something more like stimulus and -- the second part is gone now.
Future questions: Do you have any serious regrets? And especially: Who are you?
He complimented me on something I said about wanting to be like Terry Gross/excavating magnificent, intricate stories that walk all around us on two legs (looking, sounding like just another classmate). It reminded him of that neologism "saunder," from the dictionary of obscure sorrows? I had seen it before and forgotten about it, but I was dissatisfied. This is not it. I think I was looking for something through all those questions this afternoon... but it was not the right thing.
I asked him whether he would ever consider composing a list of impractical, not readily accomplished aspirations. I wish I could remember his counter-question, but I can only vaguely remember that it probed the whether or not such a list would be meaningful.
If you could have any three things right now, what would they be?
A boat -- nothing gilded or overbearingly large, moderately sized and nice.
For the girlfriend to live in the same city.
To know exactly what kind of orthopedics to go into.
The answers were straightforward, honest -- speaking to some of the more pressing concerns of the moment.
He'd had time to give the boat some thought previously, in recent conversation with his friends JF and MG (different MG). They had discussed what they would do with lottery winnings. JF and different MG had considered completing medical school, but our MG -- the young protagonist MG -- said he would take a leave of absence, buy a boat, and sail the world.
If he could know his specialty, it would save him a lot of time. He would know what figures to shoot for in class or on boards (rather than a vague and vertiginous better than best). I wanted to know not just "orthopedics," but something more precise than this: hand surgeon, he offered as a suggestion. He was just the other day walking to or from the cafeteria for coffee listening to a This American Life episode where the guest, the author of a book, discussed his theory that most people will fail to choose correctly in two important life choices: who to marry and what vocation to pursue. He appeared quite set on choosing right.
The girlfriend he had begun dating only ten months ago, after beginning medical school. She was back in Ithaca finishing her fourth year as a prelaw student, and it seemed they didn't see each other quite so often as he imagined she'd like. It was also difficult for him, he said, but medical school did a lot to help him forget that particular trouble. He said he thought it might be harder for her -- and in the same breath added that this might be a skewed expectation, inflected with the bias that women may feel more keenly.
He leaned back into the bench, sinking his heels and slouching into his signature nonchalant affect. She was so cute that he was dying to hook up with her, but instead he ended up telling her all his feelings. When it became clear to the two of them that he'd go right on telling her his feelings and wanting to hook up with her, she allowed both on the condition they start dating, so they began dating, and it had gone very well.
He might bargain the gift of instantaneous fluency in one or another language (probably German) in exchange for one or another of these.
If you couldn't do medicine tomorrow what would you do?
MG finished an undergraduate degree in bioengineering at Cornell in seven semesters. He spent the following six months working before matriculating in medical school the following fall. The way he told his story, his life has been a straight-shot to a career in medicine, from childhood to present. If he couldn't do medicine, he would go into finance to make "a boatload of money" or if money were no objective, he would perhaps dabble in music. He rated himself an amateur with no real odds of success, but thought it would be something he could find fulfilling in and of itself.
Again, if money were no matter, he might become an inventor of medical devices. The issue was: How can I be guaranteed to help as many people as possible. This seemed especially important to him as a measure of success. He absolutely needed to do something that would help people.
I'm boring myself with writing this, and I know it's on me. I'm missing something. I feel like the story's right in front of my mind, and I'm staring blind.
So young! Whose music would he most like to have as his own? There was a lot of deliberation as to whether that would be cheating before he settled on Mozart or Barber's Adagio for Strings. Why? Because of the range of impact and how universally these pieces are understood. (The sorrow of Barber's Adagio.) That preoccupation with fame, impact, success! Nothing about happiness or love, though perhaps those were implied. Even knowing he may not know what he wants, he has his list of desirable possibles -- as if we can circumscribe want or future so succinctly. The way he tells his story, it's all the best laid plans of mice and men gang aft more or less according to schedule. I asked so many extraneous questions and received so little deviating from that narrative.
To live close to water. To have a boat. The right balance of movement and stasis? No, he said something more like stimulus and -- the second part is gone now.
Future questions: Do you have any serious regrets? And especially: Who are you?
He complimented me on something I said about wanting to be like Terry Gross/excavating magnificent, intricate stories that walk all around us on two legs (looking, sounding like just another classmate). It reminded him of that neologism "saunder," from the dictionary of obscure sorrows? I had seen it before and forgotten about it, but I was dissatisfied. This is not it. I think I was looking for something through all those questions this afternoon... but it was not the right thing.
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