I’m pretty sure I’m the reigning champ of the world… nay, the universe… at goofing off. I’ve been practicing for decades. My job during the summer after my freshman year of college was lifeguard.
Yep, that’s pretty much how I looked…
Sure, we had to make sure the pool patrons didn’t drown (it’s bad for repeat business), but 99.9% of the time I was sitting on my butt…. or using tortilla chips to skim the crusty layer off the nacho “cheese” (using that term very loosely) in the snack bar.
The following summer I took the same gig .(I’m mean, who wouldn’t double down on the free nachos?).
I shifted gears slightly the next summer – I was a summer camp counselor. Actually, check that, I was a summer day camp counselor. So I spent my days playing “Capture the Flag” with a bunch of rugrats (and got a free lunch) but then I could go home to a bed instead of roughing it in a tent or cabin.
Yep, that’s pretty much how I looked dressed.
None of those jobs involved night shifts. The pool was closed on Sunday. While the money wasn’t great, the jobs were decidedly “cush gigs.”
Once I graduated, my jobs were:
Marketing at a horse racing track
radio station
another radio station
travel agent
radio yet again
still more radio
writer at an ad agency
writer at a marketing firm
These dainty hands of mine have never known calluses. (Although there was that one time when the hot nacho cheese dripped on a knuckle… )
Writing takes up the lion’s share of my workday now. And with all due respect to the late great sportswriter Red Smith, who said:
Writing is easy.You simply sit down at the typewriter, open your veins, and bleed.”
The type of writing I do (employee communications) isn’t exactly War and Peace. And the first part of writing is coming up with ideas, which is really glorified daydreaming. So I get paid to stare out the window. (I’m really really good at it… probably my 2nd best skill behind “nacho eating.”)
I do believe I’ve fulfilled my horoscope destiny. (It’s not being lazy if it’s written in the stars!)
However, I don’t want to take any chances. To increase my goofing off capacity, I need to make sure my well-honed do-nothing muscles don’t atrophy. Practice makes perfect, right? So if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be the one napping on the couch, with a streak of nacho “cheese” trailing down my cheek.
Neil Sedaka said “Breaking up is hard to do” but I found it quite easy to break up with my newspaper. (Yes, I still read a newspaper… wasn’t the Neil Sedaka reference a huge clue?)
I enjoy cracking open a Sunday newspaper. There’s something very soothing about it. It’s a comfortable routine. (Step one: throw all the sales circulars in the recycling bin. Step two: read the comics.) I stare at a computer screen pretty much all day at my job, so it’s nice to go “old school” on the weekends. It’s tangible, tactile, decidedly not “meta.” Besides, you can “scroll” through a printed paper a lot faster than you can scroll through the articles online (thanks for nothing, slow-loading Metamucil pop-up ads targeted to my life stage).
The Cincinnati Enquirer, like most daily newspapers, has been slowly circling the drain for several years now. They’ve laid off most of their journalists. They shifted the printing to Columbus a few years ago, so any news that happens after noon won’t be in the next day’s edition. But there was still enough meat on the bones to keep me as a subscriber. Until they introduced their “special editions.” It’s an extra section in the Sunday paper for “special occasions” – recent ones have covered MLK Day and the Bengals Super Bowl appearance.
Each “special edition” means I’m charged about 50% more for that month’s subscription. And they’ve been trotting out “special editions” at a record pace… I wouldn’t be surprised if they put one out for Administrative Assistants Day.
There’s no way to opt out of these special editions. So they’re really no more than a flimsy excuse to try to extract a bit more cash out of their ever-dwindling subscriber base.
So I finally decided to send the Cincinnati Enquirer a special edition of my own – it’s called a “subscription cancellation.” Unlike their special editions, this one’s free!
[I’m keeping my print subscriptions to Cincinnati Magazine (best deal in town) and The Atlantic… for the tangible, tactile reasons mentioned above. And of course I’ll still be receiving AARP Magazine based on my life stage.. no pop-up ads in that one.]
I believe that the world was created and approved by love, that it subsists, coheres, and endures by love, and that, insofar as it is redeemable, it can be redeemed only by love.
WENDELL BERRY
Photograph by Guy Mendes
Good ol’ Wendell. He’s just a Kentucky farmer who loves the land… and the people on it. Because the land and the people are like peas in a pod… or should be.
Seems like a lot of folks these days are trying to rule the world with greed, venom, hatred. That ain’t gonna work. Love wins. Always.
Speaking of love, the Wendell Berry quote above came from the Gratefulness.org “Word for the Day” email. I love getting a new inspirational quote in my inbox every day. You will too. You can sign up here.
In case you missed this Twitter thread from John Darnielle, the lead singer of The Mountain Goats, when it came out on New Year’s Eve:
In 2022, may we all find moments when we can appreciate “the ten trillion small things that ease the path a little — colors, shades, sounds, flavors, sensations, moods, fleeting thoughts, moments of transcendence when you’re very lucky…”
Warren Zevon taught us to “enjoy every sandwich.” Now John Darnielle has taught us to enjoy every potato. Will it be enough to get us through another year? Hell yes!
Just a few quotes to ponder as we get ready to turn the page on 2021.
A miracle happened: another day of life.
Paulo Coelho
Life, what an exquisite privilege.
Katie Rubenstein
Be happy for this moment. This moment is your life.
Omar Khayyam
Funny how we tend to put too much stock in our resolutions for the “new year” based on a calendar that came out in the 1500s… and we don’t spend nearly enough effort making today count. Because it’s the only day that counts.
I’m not much of a Beatles fan. [I know that’s a blistering hot take for someone of my vintage, but so be it (not “let it be…”). I’d much rather hear new music than songs that have been played a bazillion times. And if I do have to listen to “oldies” I’d prefer the Who, the Kinks, Creedence Clearwater Revival, the Rolling Stones… pretty much any other band from that mid-to-late 60’s era. I’m not saying the Beatles weren’t good and ground-breaking… it’s just I could go the rest of my life without hearing another of their songs and would be fine with that.]
The article was quite interesting. As noted above, I’m no Beatles superfan, so I’d never heard the story of “Claudio” before. But what really stood out for me was a footnote… it contains one of the best descriptions I’ve ever seen about the emotional power of music.
[11] If you’re ready to stop reading because you think I’m a deluded hippie no more rational than Claudio, hear me out and think about what music actually is and how it affects you: someone you do not know and have never met creates a series of sounds and combinations of words that, once recorded, you might eventually hear and it will bring you absolute joy, or cause your body to move wildly, or reduce to you to tears, or create an unbreakable bond between you and another person, often times achieved in about three minutes or so. If there is such a thing as magic in this world, this is a solid example of it.
Ryan H. Walsh
Wow! He really hit the nail on the head… it’s amazing when you stop to think about it. Or maybe don’t think about it and just enjoy it!
[ The author of the article also wrote a book called Astral Weeks: A Secret History of 1968. I’ve read that book, and it’s a fascinating look at several wild events (some music-related, some not) that happened in and around Boston back in ’68. Well worth checking out.]
Kevin Sullivan on War… why? And now what?: “I read your post Damian and I like it very much. As we move from a Saturday morning headline of…” Mar 3, 09:22
Damian on Smartphones are making us dumb.: “Thanks for (not) reading the post, Kevin. And thanks for mentioning several other formats (article, essay, poem) that can train…” Feb 23, 19:55
Kevin on Smartphones are making us dumb.: “You know I didn’t read your post because I don’t need to. The lack of reading of all generations reveals…” Feb 23, 10:32
You done said…