Having no skill set for loftier goals, like developing sustainable agricultural techniques or saving endangered species, I've set my sights somewhat lower.

I want to write the next incarnation of a Shades of Grey trilogy.

It's been called the erotic breakout novel of the digital download revolution. Downloadable, it's been said by those who are snarky, so if you are reading it in a public venue no one would know.

No matter, Ms. E.L. James is going to make a great deal of money. That would be a multi seven figure great deal of money…

And that is motivation enough for me.

Really, even if I could come up with a plan to save endangered species, it really doesn't pay much, does it?

Ms. James, in the myriad of interviews I've seen, has been delightfully self deprecating. I can do that. She's middle aged. I can relate. Fighting the battle of the bulge is probably something we share. She admits to not being very disciplined. I call my lack of discipline, affectionately, by it's pet name, …HDAD. And her book, I'm told, while being touted as erotica, doesn't really offer up any steamy sex. Another condition I can, sadly, relate to.

But she wrote it, and I have not, and probably can't, let alone won't.

I suppose I need to reconsider my apirations list. I must not look to be rich, famous and maligned as an author of, not quite but almost, smut. I will be a humanitarian.

Tomorrow I will save the rhubarb from extinction while I simultaneously save Willy.