I was listening to NPR on the way to teach my class last week, and I heard an extended interview with a researcher who had dedicated his entire life to studying cotton.  I guess he was working on some new superhybrid of cotton that propogated itself easily for use in Third World nations. 

They were saying how an 83-year-old farmer in West Virginia can take on 40 people in an African nation handily due to the superior cotton technology in the U.S. Between fertilizers, hybrids and farm equipment, they just can't compete. This researcher dedicated his life to trying to find cotton that would help the little guy out.

As they were interviewing him, the reporter pointed out that he must dearly love cotton.  "No," he said.  "Actually, I could do without the cotton.  I just want to leave my mark."

A week later, I am still thinking about how profound that statement is.  I have never loved working just for the pure work.  I don't care for advertising, taxes, landscaping or software development in the way I assume surgeons care for the cut.  I don't go to sleep at night dreaming of the next big button I can think up for some user interface.  I actually really want to be a writer, which I suppose is why I subject you all to my meanderings every other day or so.  But until someone calls me up with a bonafide writing job in this non-publishing city, I guess I'll have to stick to cotton. Hopefully I'll at least leave a mark.