The Night We Formed The New Radicals

I was at a dinner party in a lovely home in an upscale Toronto neighborhood. Around the table, twelve successful professionals were gathered, including two university professors, a psychiatrist, doctor, management consultant, publisher, concert pianist, and several business executives.

Over a delicious salad of arugula and red pears, followed by a rustic cassoulet, we chatted amiably about the changing seasons, the theater, and our plans for the holidays. Then, as the main course was being cleared away, one of the guests turned to me and casually asked, "So, Julia, what are you doing these days?"

Without pausing to think, I replied, "Well, I've just re-invented myself."

Suddenly, there was dead silence. Everyone leaned in, and began asking questions all at once. "Really, what have you done?" "What's involved?" "How did you decide what to do?" "Is it working?"

I blushed deeply. I'd never spoken about this to anyone. And now I would have to explain in front of these accomplished people just what was going on.

I made much of it up on the spot. Back then, my ideas were only half formed, and I was deeply engaged in the process of transforming myself. But the words just flowed. It was clear that they were already inside of me, and all I needed was an opportunity to express them.

I spoke about my sense that our generation had an unfinished revolution stirring within us. That the idealism of our youth wasn't gone, but had simply disappeared from view while we started families and developed careers. And now it was rising again to the surface, filling us with visions of new possibilities. That while some of our peers were talking about early retirement, many more of us were interested in starting fresh in a way that reflected our deepest values. That in the next phase of our lives, we longed to make the world a better place. We wanted to find ways to leverage our expertise to take on some of the world's toughest problems. And that I was shifting my practice from writing speeches for corporate leaders to helping baby boomers like me make the transition to the second part of our working lives.

The dishes eventually made it to the kitchen, and dessert and coffee were served. But well past midnight, the conversation continued. And the more I revealed about my ideas and dreams, the more others opened up about their own. It reminded me of school, when groups of us would talk late at night, wondering and worrying about the world, and dreaming about how we might transform it.

As my middle-aged friends and I parted company that night, I realized that this was something profoundly different: we weren't just talking about changing the world now.

We were in a position to actually do it.

This was my first encounter with a group of what I came to call the New Radicals. That night, I knew for certain that it wasn't just some wild idea of mine, or a longing only I felt. In fact, our camaraderie gave me the confidence to jump feet first into my new life, and to write a book about the New Radical pioneers, We Are The New Radicals: A Manifesto for Reinventing Yourself and Saving the World.

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[Rule Of Law]

The old woman and me went to a potluck the other night over to our neighbor Nora's doublewide down by the recycling plant. It was me and some of the other garbage sorters from the plant, a carpenter,a third grade teacher, Manuel our "native healer," Libby, the trailer park gossip, Jack who's collecting unemployment under 3 names, Ricki, who runs her own porn site, Carl who plays banjo by the overpass, and a couple of self-employed import/export entrepreneurs--if you get my drift?

Over some cold Bud Lites and a hot bong (courtesy of our self employed buddies), we dug into the guacamole and chips, followed by some Costco t-bones (5.99 on sale) while we rapped about this jerk-off president, his rich buddies and their war and how we were hopin' the tanking economy didn't wreck our vacation plans to Six Flags.

After the usual chit chat about work and the price of gas, Carl asked me what I'd been up to these day--besides workin' my ass off, you know. Well, we'd had a lot of beer by then and so I looked up kinda' sheepish and it just sort of slipped out, "Well, I've just re-invented myself."

You coulda heard a roach clip drop as pretty much everybody's beer just stopped in mid sip. "Say what, man," Ricki gasped. "I thought you dug being a dude?"

Carl, who is really the artist among us winced. "No, no you techno-ho. What he means is that he's had some life changing shit go down, right, Earl?"

And with that every body crowded their lawn chairs in a little closer while I took a deep breath, looked up with a big ol' shit eating grin and said, "What? You lame asses think I'm some high livin', theater goin', arugula eating, Fortunate Godamn Son? I'm just messin with y'all, that's all."

[Rule Of Law]

Suddenly my butt was in the wet grass and Marla (the little woman) was standing over me with the lawn chair in her hand, everybody laughing and even I had to admit it was pretty funny.

With my arm over my wife's shoulders, I staggered up the path to our trailer and realized that this middle aged working man was lucky to have the friends he did, cuz that's about all we've got, ain't it? I wouldn't even mind the ribbing I'd get tomorrow about the chair thing, and I might even try cutting back on the brews a bit--at least until I get my raise.