In the Calendar section of today's Los Angeles Times, Patrick Goldstein has a page one interview with writer David Seidler. What makes it news is that Seidler is 73 and wrote the screenplay for "The King's Speech." Should he be nominated for and win the Oscar for Best Original Screenplay, which seems possible and even likely, he will be the oldest writer to win in that category. Goldstein said, "In a career that stretches back to the 1960s, he'd never written a hit movie."
I offer this a further evidence that it is never too late.
Next month I will be 66. I don't follow numerology so I can't say if that is a significant number. What does feel significant is the fact that, in so many ways, I am just getting started.
Tales of endurance, resilience and triumph thrill me. Inspiration does not have an age limit, nor does determination. One of my deeply-held beliefs is that the dreams of our hearts are not there by chance. From wherever they spring, they belong to our true, authentic selves. When they arrived, they came with a small, perhaps poorly marked packet of seeds with which to grow them.
That I went back and replaced the word container with packet in the previous sentence tells me I have not run out of options. There are more precise words to be found, tighter, clearer sentences to be constructed. Where these exercises take me is less important than knowing a journey is under way. I am the passenger absorbing every scene that rushes past, grateful for a window seat.
At one time I thought of myself as a late bloomer, now I would use the term gradual bloomer. Not slow, for that hints at running behind schedule. Yes, in terms of human lifespan it is more late than early, but how can I know it is not perfectly timed?
David Seidler's history, familiar for its non-linear quality, did not seem to foretell success a long way down the road. Yet he worked at his craft, I would say because that is what a writer does. In his new success, he laughs and says he is still the same ass he was three months ago. We are, most of us, still whatever we were three months - or three years - ago, curious to discover what we may be tomorrow.