Five years ago, at the age of 59, I was considering a job move from a place where my roots run deep. Was I crazy? Could I even consider it? I mean, my plan was to retire from the place that give me a job when I was 17. My life was in that place and everything was on schedule. I had risen through the ranks, writing countless stories, and working long hours before finally taking that corner office where I was calling the shots as the editor of a daily newspaper.