Okay, am relating to Whitman in a couple ways:
The first time I saw the Pacific Ocean, I pressed my legs together and sawed like a cricket.
Also, he worked for many, many publications, wrote essays, had columns, published poems in them, and usually left under unfavorable circumstances (didn't like the owners' politics, the owners didn't like his politics, he clashed with the money people). He wasn't liberal enough for the abolitionist papers; he wasn't conservative enough for the pro-slavery newspapers. It reminds me of the time when the editorial workers of the Free Times tried to unionize the paper, and I managed to anger both sides.
Obviously, my world has gotten very narrow: school, work, home, school, work, home. Isn't there a war going on?