Regular readers know that I struggle to manage my time, and in keeping with that, whenever I file a comment, or answer an e-mail, with anything more than a "thanks for writing" or "you got that right," I try to turn it into a separate post. And so it is that I pull out my evasive response to Randy’s good-faith question:
with the vacations on the sand, dining at the CCC and writing an article each week where do you find time to maintain a blog?
Kidding aside, what is a typical day like for you?
Lousy. In fact, not a day goes by that I don’t consider chucking the blog entirely, but I simply don’t have time for it. No sane person with even rudimentary time-management skills would ever start one.
But wait… I’m not supposed to be frank about such things. I’ve always tried to hold to the ethic that Hemingway wrote of in The Sun Also Rises:
"Come on down-stairs and have a drink."
"Aren’t you working?"
"No," I said. We went down the stairs to the café on the ground floor. I had discovered that was the best way to get rid of friends. Once you had a drink all you had to say was: "Well, I’ve got to get back and get off some cables," and it was done. It is very important to discover graceful exits like that in the newspaper business, where it is such an important part of the ethics that you should never seem to be working. Anyway, we went down-stairs to the bar and had a whiskey and soda. Cohn looked at the bottles in bins around the wall. "This is a good place," he said.
"There’s a lot of liquor," I agreed.
"Listen, Jake," he leaned forward on the bar. "Don’t you ever get the feeling that all your life is going by and you’re not taking advantage of it? Do you realize you’ve lived nearly half the time you have to live already?"
"Yes, every once in a while."
"Do you know that in about thirty-five years more we’ll be dead?"
"What the hell, Robert," I said. "What the hell."
"It’s one thing I don’t worry about," I said.
"You ought to."
So I hope you’ll excuse me now, but I have to go get off some cables…