Procrastination Nation

Things that Robert is thinking about that keep him from accomplishing anything.

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours? Counter by Digits.Com

Monday, October 06, 2003
More Me
I was all set to recount my lunchtime conversation in which I described how Arnold's imminent victory spells good fortune for the Democrats: a political neophyte with a troublesome past inherits a disastrous economy and budget situation and is forced to right the problems of two generations of atrocious management of 5th largest economy in the world. Unfortunately, those shmucks at the New York Times beat me to it. (You'll need to register with the NYT to read it.)

They add the George Bush angle that I might have eventually gotten to, but they omit the central interesting issue (though it may have been covered earlier): is Arnold this generation's Lurleen Wallace, wife of former Ala. Gov. George Wallace, and consequently also governor of Alabama? Or, in the common idiom: is Arnold Pete Wilson's bitch?

On the bright side, you will soon get a chance to read my awkward academic prose, in addition to my often stultifying pedestrian prose, in the journal Psychiatric Services. I'll post a link to upcoming articles in the press about this work. Here's the Nashville City Paper's article.

Also, I attended Neal Pollack's reading in Nashville. It's good to see the effect of my carefully crafted words on the local public, having inspired some fraction of two dozen people to attend. I suppose this bodes ill for a future in promotional writing.

Oh, I almost forgot: I spent Friday night dealing blackjack to Cracker Barrel restaurant managers and district managers from across the nation. Quite fun. I only got in trouble once for allowing folks to bet over the maximum per hand (they used play money, so what's the bleepin' harm?). I was not penalized for allowing players to earn chips by telling me good jokes. I asked about their worst days working at CB, and they were reluctant to share--probably sensed it would be bad for business--but several volunteered stories about the day somebody was shot. It kind of killed the fun, frolicsome atmosphere, so I just went back to dealing.

Comments: Post a Comment