October 2, 2003

By Michael Strickland


While sitting down to write today's column, I racked my brain for a topic. But finding a stationary train of thought in the Grand Central Station of my rush-hour head has proven difficult indeed. Sixty-hour work weeks seemingly the norm these days, I have lately found little down-time during which to reflect, collect my thoughts or even clean my apartment.

There is no shortage of ideas for an editorial. I could add my voice to the uproar over Rush Limbaugh's politically incorrect, opinionated but definitely not racist comment about Donavan McNabb. I could draw a comparison between today's "revelation" about Schwarzenegger's alleged past fondling and Clinton's admitted sexcapades in the Oval Office (then they said it was "just sex," now they're in a tizzy over a grope). I could even shine the light of reason on the continuing absurdity coming out of the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals, which today ruled unconstitutional the taking of DNA samples from federal prisoners in an effort to tie them to unsolved crimes—a 3-year-old practice which has already yielded many new convictions.

But the reality is, I can't focus long enough on one thing to give it the depth of analysis required. I opened a can of soup for dinner and left it boiling on the stove for half an hour, having completely forgotten about it. If I can't focus on a can of Campbell's, how can I string together a coherent thought or two about current events?

It's been nearly nine months since my decision to withdraw from law school, and over two years since I left Disney. Yet here I am, working 60 hours a week to barely scrape by. I do take some comfort from the fact that I am far from alone, that many victims of the recession are underemployed or unemployed. But for now, coming home every night exhausted and stressed out, I have little brainpower left over to compose a rational thought here, much less keep up the CPR on my ailing writing career.

Tomorrow, however, a respite. You'll find me on the Central Coast this weekend, decompressing at the Morro Bay Harbor Festival (look for me experimenting in the beer-tasting tent or watching the Jethro Tull tribute band). Hopefully I'll return refreshed, recharged and ready to jump back on my soapbox.


©2003 Michael Strickland ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

What is "The Daily Strick"?

I have long called myself a writer, but too often I don't do what a writer must do daily: write. So you, dear reader, are the beneficiary of my resolution to make a positive change in at least one area of my life. Every single day of this new year (almost), I will write something, anything, and post it here. It is my intention to use this daily exercise to jump-start my too-long-dormant creative energies, and perhaps generate some worthwhile material this year. Hopefully you will find at least an occasional amusement or insight in my daily musings.

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October Columns:

10/31: Halloween's History
10/30: Good GDP, Still No Jobs
10/29: Disaster
10/27: Ash Monday
10/26: En Fuego
10/25: Diving in the Desert
10/24: Dead Car Canyon
10/23: Reflections
10/21: Le Métro
10/20: Pain
10/17: Jury Duty
10/15: Labor Pains
10/14: The Business of Losing
10/13: Owls and Jobs
10/12: Hooked
10/11: The "S" in SUV
10/9: Flee the City
10/8: Sore Losers
10/5: Turkeys
10/4: It's Not the Economy, Stupid
10/2: Focus
10/1: Twenty Years
Previous months in The Archive

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