Blog Prompts

"Writing about a writer's block is better than not writing at all."

-Charles Bukowski

Sitting here scrambled in my thoughts after an acrimonious Zoom meeting. I have to admit I always find myself in these scrums trying to bring "peace into the room", as a mediator-author acquaintance of mine put it years ago. Crawling into my own head, I figure this is a vestige of growing up in an alcoholic household where, as the oldest child, I was constantly trying to head off confrontations and conflicts that could turn violent. It's not a great set point for a trial lawyer whose professional life is filled with nothing but acrimony.

Oversharing a bit, I suppose.

As I sat here this morning, I found myself going through the mental rolodex of topics that populate this blog, now in its sixth year. The low-hanging fruit is always the lunatic in chief and his folks' daily antics, but I find I don't have much original to say about all that, and it's probably not great for my mental health (or yours) to scroll through Drudge or the NYT then rant about the idiocy and madness of this political and social moment.

Or I could just write about the NYC adventure, which every day seems to include some amazing experience. Yesterday was Yemeni spiced coffee in the morning, and the Great Gatsby on Broadway in the evening. But a travelogue is also sort of brainless, isn't it? At the same time, I find myself writing about it all because I know memories fade, and I want to hang onto these moments here as long as I can.

Then there are memories--of airplanes, of war, of growing up in a world that is disappearing before my very eyes. Lots of material there, and space to reflect on what it all meant. Thirty-five years ago today I was flying fighter sweeps up and down the Euphrates as the Iraqi military was being pulverized in the ground war that began three days before. It all feels so pointless now. I should've gone to school up here and been stretched by working with smart people in a demanding environment. Instead I sort of know how throw a cast net and fly an airplane.

Finally, there's sports, although that tends to be a last resort because I seem to be the only one who still cares about the Braves or the Bills--none of my household or family follows any of that, and I've heard it suggested that fretting over the Bills' lack of a decent cadre of receivers is pointless and even wasteful in a world with so much suffering and strife. But I guess the diversion and the narrative are in fact the point. So I'll keep following my teams, and occasionallly boring you with my reflections on sports.

Hey, look at that. Just as Jerry Seinfeld famously characterized his eponymous TV series as a show about nothing, I've managed to write a blogpost that talks about writing blogposts without actually saying anything. Quite an accomplishment.

Peggy and I are walking over to the law school in a bit so I can sit in a bonus lecture from an accomplished NYC tax lawyer on an esoteric concept in the Internal Revenue Code (economic substance under sec. 70001(o), if you were curious), then back to Corning to deliver P for work next week. It's a glorious day out there. Let us rejoice in it and be glad.