I Have Failed This City

If you're a regular reader of this space, you'll probably notice that, for the first time in a very long time, I missed my regular self-imposed deadline for Thursday weekly posting. I pride myself not only on the size, quality and healthful expression contained in my leavings here, but also for my uncompromising regularity. I know that for many of you, I am a beacon in the abject darkness of internet thought, a signpost to guide you through the twisted and ill-maintained byways of modern living, a time machine to hide you from the perils of the moment in the warm, familiar comfort and safety of a communications format that more or less died in 2005.

I take this responsibility very seriously. And I have failed you. For that I am heartily sorry. Seriously, teeth have been gnashed, garments have been rent, hair and eyes have been clawed at. There may have been wailing. It's been a long seven minutes or so since I was in the shower and went "Oh, dang, I think I forgot to do the thing..." Doesn't seem like that big of a deal, but you try rending your garments while you're in the shower. It's a logistical nightmare.

I'd like to tell you I've been in hiding since I realized I was on Donald Trump's list of enemies, but I think he knows better than to publicly mess with a guy with the kind of reach I have. If this week is any indication, if I disappeared, it's possible up to eight people would notice. Imagine the furor. Imagine the outcry. Oh hey that reminds me, WHERE WAS THE FUROR, YOU GUYS?! I could have been dead for you all know and not one of you thought to send a SWAT team to my house. Just because I do this more or less anonymously is no excuse. Luckily I had the private investigator I pay to follow me around to make sure nobody else is ever following me to make sure I was OK. So yeah, I guess you're covered. Also, unrelated: would it kill one of you to stalk me? I mean, it might, because Jerry has a license to carry and standing orders to shoot first, but it's like none of you cares enough to risk it.

I know this is already weird. It's Saturday morning, it's New Year's Eve, what are we even doing? The right/laziest thing to do would be to throw together a year end retrospective of pop culture lists and summaries. But look, we've got about three weeks left of the Obama era and nothing feels quite relevant enough in these sobering (but, if my drinking friends are any indication since the election, not particularly sober) times. Also I'm embarrassed because I've seen like five movies and read I think two and a half books all year. I'm not really in a position to go deep with the superficial stuff.

Also Carrie Fisher died. And then her mom died, like, the next day or some fucked up shit. Right up until then I really wasn't sure about the awful year of celebrity death people my age (largely) were bitching about. I mean, all the pop culture heroes of our parents' generation died too, only there were no social media platforms to wail and lament on as a massive, whiny group. I think my Generation X cohort are generally a funny, cynical group with almost fatal dedication to ironic detachment, but that doesn't mean we can't also disappear up our own asses. We have a tendency to forget that we aren't in fact the first generation that anything has happened to. So as bummed as I've been about seeing Alan Rickman et al. shuffle off, at some point grandpa was sad because he'd read Errol Flynn died* or whatever the fuck. He just didn't have facebook available to commiserate about the loss of "my Robin Hood" or whatever.

Still, though, Carrie Fisher... If you're feeling nostalgic or just want to celebrate her life, don't watch Star Wars, go watch Postcards from the Edge. Or better yet, read it.

But she wasn't the reason I missed posting on Thursday. I'm on vacation. In the past I've been able to post while vacationing, in exotic locales like London and Phoenix. This time I've decided to vacation right here at my house. I'm getting important things done like binge-watching season one of Arrow with my kids and learning to play Civilization VI. These things may not seem important to you, but that's because you have judgment and good taste. I've dedicated this rare two-week break from work specifically to not doing anything of particular importance. Hence missing this last Thursday. Sorry. I'll try to do better in a few days when Thursday, inevitably, happens again.

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*In a newspaper article, like four days after the fact, tactfully not mentioning the details of his personal life.