Alan E. Boles – 50th Reunion Essay

Alan E. Boles

525 College Avenue

Boulder, CO 80302

alanboles@gmail.com

303-447-3280

Spouse(s): Susan Osborne (1989)

Child(ren): stepdaughter Shawn (1964); stepson Derek(1965)

Grandchild(ren): Noura (1997); Zakia (2000); Zahara (2011); Andre (2013); Celeste (2013)

Education: Yale College, BA, 1969; Yale Law School, JD, 1973.

Career: associate, Hollland & Hart, 5 years; city attorney, Boulder, Colorado, 23 years; private practice, 16 years.

Avocations: animal rights; care of ex-racer greyhounds; local politics; local conservation; local low-and middle-income housing; taking courses at CU; good books; hiking; climbing; skiing.

College: Saybrook

A few years ago on a hike in the mountains with several friends, for reasons I do not recall, the subject of my graduation from Yale College briefly entered the conversation. One of my companions, who holds degrees from the University of Colorado, looked at me and said, “You know, you could have become a real asshole, but you didn’t.” When I responded that he was probably thinking of Harvard, he simply declared that he had in mind “all of those places.”

At first I was a bit astounded by his remark—with its implication that Yale is a finishing school for, not just assholes, but real assholes. But then I chose to interpret it in a more positive manner. I had somehow managed to avoid my probable fate of becoming a real asshole; and, after all, that has to be a major accomplishment in anybody’s book. (Simultaneously I dismissed the possibility that he had meant that I had just become an ordinary asshole).

So, if I am not an asshole (at least in one person’s estimation), what am I? Well, for one thing, I’m alive. That is a condition that we tend to take for granted, but we probably should not. Average life expectation for a white, American, male is calculated at x years. So we have come to expect that we will last until at least that age. Yet many of us don’t.

But just being alive is not necessarily all that wonderful a state. After all, a lot of creatures that are alive are completely miserable (and, as a result, many of them devote themselves to making others miserable, too). Fortunately, I am also healthy, while constantly recognizing that at any moment a few of the trillions of cells in my body could go rogue and launch a terrorist attack against all the rest.

Even more importantly, I find myself to be generally happy. I definitely have not always felt that way. I don’t think that most of us are happy until we find the right mate. It took me until my early 40s, but then I struck gold (figuratively speaking). I am also happier since I stopped working full-time. I have labored in the vineyards of the law since, well, law school. Mostly it was enjoyable. But the competing demands for my time and the frequent summonses to clean up other people’s messes often left me frazzled and frustrated,

So what else? If I am happy, am I fat? Most people probably would not consider me to be so, although I am clearly fatter than in college. Regretful? You bet—more about what I have not done than what I have done. Pursuing the law may have been a mistake. I took the road more traveled. Maybe I would have achieved more beneficial results for the world and for myself in another field. I should have been more patient, more tolerant, more generous, and more audacious. But perhaps there is still time.

That’s my 500 words.