Years go by and everything keeps changing around us. As one gets longer in the tooth, change seems to keep speeding up, as well. But some things never change, perhaps miraculously. One of them is Ranko. Again, I have known him since childhood, and I am quite confident in saying that nobody I have ever known has remained as steadfast in his ways as he has. As I surmised nearly three decades ago, the most important thing that makes him special is his spiritual quest (“Third Person,” December 8, 1989). And his collection of writings about his world and himself remains a mesmerizing repository of his attempts to come to grips with his spiritual needs. Ever since the turn of the millennium, his yearbooks are available on the World Wide Web, which is why he has stopped sending them to me, or anyone else, as he used to do hitherto. Even though I never comment on anything of his that I read, his quest means a great deal to me personally. Over the years, his writings have affected me rather deeply.

To repeat, what is special about Ranko is his unflinching desire to discover who he is and who he ought to become. As he has grown older, the desire has grown into a veritable passion. This passion reached a peak just before his seventieth birthday, when he finally came to grips with enlightenment. Or liberation, which has become his favorite synonym for the ultimate spiritual accomplishment. One more time, his experience leading to and following from this momentous change in his life is available to all. And for free, as he likes to add with a dash of barely concealed humor. What is more, Ranko wants nothing in return. Absolutely nothing, not to mention fame, fortune, and sexual favors, which he lists unabashedly whenever he pokes fun at his fellow humans. Mere primates, in his words.

At the risk of continuing my thoughts in the first person, I must admit that Ranko has changed my life. Ever so slowly, his yearbooks have invaded my own pursuits, albeit in the best sense of the word. So many years later, I feel fortunate that our lives have become intermingled in ways I would have considered unimaginable thirty years ago. Deep down, I trust that he understands my silence. He does not need any accolades, anyhow. And it is a tremendous joy for me to know this much about him. No matter what, he will do whatever he can to make sure that his own experience with life will be of value to those few and far between who matter in the long run. This is what he calls service. That is how he sees it, and I cannot but agree with him after so many years. Perhaps the only complaint I can muster at this stage of my life is that Ranko has had hard time reining in his writing urge. In spite of his continual struggle with this urge, his book of books will soon reach four-million words. Way too many, to be sure. But this is where the World Wide Web comes to the rescue, for all of his writings are searchable. A straightforward way to cut through the dross, as he would agree himself beyond any doubt.