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I found Lynda Day, and thus solved the only mystery of my life.
Considering that I write detective fiction from time to time, this was a particularly annoying singularity. One I was anxious to put behind me. I took the leap and said, "Hey, Internet-Boy, you claim that everything can be found on the 'Net: Find your answer."
And I did.
A decade ago, most of my friends bought into the notion that our generation was susceptible to the "Peter Pan Syndrome." It seemed to fit, even as these same friends were suddenly nesting and having children.
I was not. I was exploring this new arena called the Internet, and poised to find the World Wide Web.
While most people were being resistant to change, I --- following my nature --- felt that change was not happening enough. I began publishing a "'Zine." I met these youngsters in a bar on Fillmore Street in San Francisco who followed the publication religiously, and this young woman exclaimed: "You're HIM? Ohmigod! I thought you'd be like a Gen-Xer! Reading your stuff, I like thought you would be 25 or something."
Our reviewer, Bob Powers, insisted on reaching me via telephone a year or so ago. His first exclamation: "You sound so young! I expected you to sound much more mature."
As my heroine, Linda Ellerbee, says: "And so it goes."
Now, moving into the greatest city in the world, New York, I have found Lynda and her first exclamation is that she is surprised I am not dead... You see, I tend to be a rather intense individual. Most people who knew me twenty years ago never expected me to get old(er). Most people expected me to be Forever Young. They were right in the second count, it appears.
Having visited this magazine before telephoning, Lynda also said that she was surprised I am not more cynical. I assured her that I can come across as cynical now and again, but it is difficult to maintain your cynicism when you are so blessed... and such a Romantic.
I am beginning to believe that Romanticism, in the sense that Goethe was a Romantic, keeps you "young." I am beginning to believe that the universe does give us a Cosmic Nudge when we follow our best lights. After all, as much as I kvetch about my never-ending deadlines, I get to do what I want for a living: I write. I don't report to an office, and I don't punch anybody's freaking clock. If that's not blessed, I don't know what is...
Now I am moving into New York City, following a life-long dream. I still tilt at windmills and pursue leftist causes. I still have failed to nest. I still believe we can change the world. I groove out on Gangsta rap --- but also jazz, rock, classical, and blues; I hang with the homies, laugh at the Def, and yeah --- lots of people think I sound like a kid, Dude.
What can I say? Somebody has to be Peter Pan.
Rod Amis has published this magazine, in some form, since 1990. His work has appeared in the San Francisco Bay Guardian Online, NRV8, and Suite 101. He writes a weekly column on the WWW for Andover News Network, and is a contributing writer on Information Technology issues for Faulkner Information Services. The web version of this magazine has been published since March, 1996. Mr. Amis resides in New York City.
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