The day began the way its predecessor ended, in a deep state of frustration. Travel. One goes so many places. One of the worst places involves age. There are certain mobile phones geared to those with age under their belts, and I purchased one upon arrival the other day at St. Pancras Station. The young Iranian man who sold it to me was not only kind, but indulgent. I had lost my other British mobile phone somehow, moving down the great road of life. But here I was with my Vodafone card in Read more [...]

Indulgence. What is it precisely? A week lolling about a ship? Doubtless. The real question being, what are the constructive uses of lolling? For those of us driven to produce and perform, inactivity can feel downright threatening. And in a life of doing nothing, interspersed with doing things that are enjoyable, what happens? I watched with bemusement as Jane departed our stateroom just moments ago in search of a Rumba class. Everyone should study the Rumba, or have the right to do so. Read more [...]

Sensible or more worldly people accept the world and its sad decline with more equanimity. I take it personally. Frequently, I cannot take it at all. What I do take is responsibility. Doubtless too much. I certainly take time, frequently too much of this also. In fact way too much on one particular Thursday morning as Jane and I stood with the throngs waiting for taxis in front of the midtown Hilton in New York. The taxi wallah assured us that a wheelchair-accessible cab would drift into the Read more [...]

A pissing contest. Where did I commonly hear this turn of phrase? Doubtless in my corporate past. Something that was said vis-à-vis executive approval of speeches, most likely. Someone in a marketing department would look at a speech draft and pronounce judgment, then a different person on the CEO's staff would do the same and deliver an opposite opinion. While me, the hapless writer, would wait, nervously eyeing the deadline that everyone seemed to care about, but no one was addressing. While the Read more [...]

Now that I'm a writer guy, a bona fide author, and so on, you'd think I'd be scrambling to get to the top of the bestseller list. You know, right up there with Danielle Steele. But no, I'm scrambling, but sideways. Like a crab. Partly, this is because I am too old to believe in progress. Our most important product, remember...if you are old enough to recall Ronald Reagan intoning these words in the 1950s, his mellifluous Teleprompter voice targeting that most noble of creations, General Electric. Read more [...]

The 4:30 AM day is somehow ablaze, even though it is technically dark. Jane and I have been awakened by screeching mammals. She swears we have heard cats. I suspect raccoons. Either way, I remain awake, thoughts racing. Until the slightly more civilized hour of 6 AM, when I give up and we get up. Summertime, and the livin' is hot. This day, like its predecessor, is too warm too early. And in some predictable way, on hot days I fall asleep with fan-driven air wafting about the bedroom, then wake up Read more [...]