I'm flying off tomorrow afternoon to Boston to interview Francis Sullivan for my dissertation on his life's intellectual ministry. I'll be at Boston College until Tuesday, staying with one of my best friends from Notre Dame who is working on his doctorate in Psychology. Erik is the soulmate-type best friend, the kind with whom I shared a kind of easy telepathy that freaked other people out. We shared a lot of the best of our ND years, wandered the streets of Rome and the oases of the Sahara together, but now I've not seen him since a two-hour lunch in 2003, and probably a year or two before that. I wonder if we'll still connect in the same way? He's got a new girlfriend who's making us dinner tomorrow night, so I'm jazzed to check out this woman who has grabbed my friend's interest. In fact, he called up the other night and warned me of a string of parties that we'll have to attend in the evenings. Darn. Darn, darn darny-darn. Myself, I'm really interested to see what kind of friends he's made, and who they've helped make him become in the last few years. And one of the parties is full of ND people from the ACE program, for which I was a master teacher, and so I might run into some old acquaintances. All and all, along with what should be a phenomenal 3 or 4-day conversation with Sullivan about his life, I'm really jazzed.
Now I'm off to play with/figure out the digital recorder I bought today for the occasion. After losing a week to the shivers and aches, I've been almost wired the last day or two. We had pizza out at Dan's place tonight and I met the newly-born Owen Gabriel Lloyd, who was ruddy and quiet, while mother Amy was already feeling over the weariness of childbirth. I also saw for the first time the house Mike and Donna just bought, and am utterly amazed at their taking on such work while doing the doctorate. Me, I'm glad to shovel out the money in rental for a place I can just enjoy and don't have to think about.