mad, bad and dangerous to know.

he peers at me over his glasses, clasping my hand warmly and giving me his final piece of sage advice:

"don't ever settle," he tells me. "never. you deserve so much better than that. you are too talented, and too intelligent. do you know how rare that is?"

we stand at the end of the celebration at the end of the era that saw this man as my stand-in father and frequent foil, my cohort in numerous late-night, last-minute battles against the forces of insanity around here. my companion in geek chatter about obscure cameras and obscure phrases, travelogues and work-related horror stories. an academic at heart, he could drink all of us whippersnappers in the department under the table--and occasionally did, as he did last night.

of course, with that sentence he was referring to more than my working life, having learned earlier that day of my current circumstances--a revelation which surprised him, and sent his paternal feelings toward me into overdrive. it was strange, and sweet, and carried with it a certain kind of finality; as though these were his parting words, that i should give myself more credit across the board.

you know. the kind of thing you would want your dad to say when you stand at the cusp of change.

today marks a seismic shift around here. things are changing, and he is moving two floors away. twenty feet straight up, but i know i'll hardly see him around.

and that saddens me.