Throw the lumber over, man! Let your boat of life be light, packed with only what you need – a homely home and simple pleasures, one or two friends, worth the name, someone to love and someone to love you, a cat, a dog, and a pipe or two, enough to eat and enough to wear, and a little more than enough to drink; for thirst is a dangerous thing.

— Jerome K. Jerome, Three Men in a Boat

I have a younger friend who has already had more adventure in his three decades than most of us have in a lifetime. Walt Whitman’s multitudes are homogenous compared to his. He has a very inquisitive mind despite a Hillbilly Elegy-type upbringing. He’s traveled widely and had enough unique experiences to already make for an interesting biography. He has a very dangerous job in the justice system in which he has been hospitalized at least a couple times with gunshot wounds and other “lesser” injuries, one of which required him to fatally shoot a man in self-defense. He’s great to have a conversation with, but it also sure makes me appreciate life in my hobbit-hole, never having adventures or doing anything unexpected. No one would want to read about my life, but I wouldn’t want to live any other.