In spring he separated.
He visited his father.
In summer he relocated to the city he loved and vowed not to live outside the urban center unless it be to split time between the truly rural and the truly urban. He golfed with friends, visited his best man, who is now in Chicago and worked through the emotional and intellectual questions surrounding the end of his marriage.
In autumn he was divorced.
Having weathered the IT hiring slump at [redacted], he continues there as an information security professional.
He remains, as he has been for as long as he can remember, withdrawn and unavailable from his family except in short bursts. He doesn't yet know why.
He makes plans how to live successfully to 130 or beyond, imagining he took up the task in a hand off from his grandfather Ayers.
He dreams, he writes, he spews _The Useless Drivel of a Philosopher Serf_ into the Internet on a regular basis.
Generally happy, sometimes sad, he misses you all and the relationships he imagines but doesn't know if he ever really had.