Writers Block

Writer’s Block

What does one write when they don’t really feel like saying anything?

After a working weekend in Las Vegas surrounded by fellow broadcasting slime (and, to paraphrase Donald Trump, I assume some were good people), I found myself home on a Sunday afternoon tired, perhaps hungover, and totally unmotivated to write pretty much anything.

Oh, sure, I did my due diligence; I watched Donald Trump’s latest interview in which he, according to some, offered details on issues including immigration. I was going to parse his words and ask when this circus will end, but then I figured “what’s the point?”

Beyond Trump, other big political news this weekend point out that Hillary Clinton is plummeting and flailing in ways only some two-bit radio talk show host like me could have predicted she would. Democrats are so scared and nervous they’re begging Joe Biden, John Kerry and Al Gore to all consider getting in the race. I was going to write about the irony of the party trying to solve the dilemma of having an old, tired, terrible candidate as a presumptive frontrunner looking backwards to other older, more tired, worse candidates as solutions, but then I figured “what’s the point?”

One more political tidbit from the weekend was the meteoric rise of Dr. Ben Carson and former HP CEO Carly Fiorina, meaning that the three current Republican front runners are all political novices and outsiders with no political experience at all. I was going to ask if we’d finally reached that point where we, the electorate, were going to become so fed up and so involved that we may actually begin the process of throwing the bums out…and then I figured, “what’s the point.”

Maybe it’s a function of my frustration with feeling like absolute ass at the moment (and not being able to tell if I’m actually hungover, which never happens, or if I’m actually sick, which happens even less often), or maybe I just want to be a whiny little bitch. So I decided I’d abandon anything political and see what else people were chatting about.

There’s a new study that kids should play multiple sports, not just one. I was drawn to the irony of a world where children are already overscheduled are now being told to spread themselves as thin as possible and not focus on a single passion, but rather “whatever seems fun,” and then I figured “what’s the point?”

Reading about kids made me think about Saturday morning breakfast, during which time two parents in their late 20s (who looked like they were in their late 40s thanks to the life sucking mini-vampires they were carting around Vegas) allowed their two small boys to leave the table, rather than eating, and run around the restaurant, climb into bushes, chase birds and disrupt whomever they pleased. Truth be told, they never came close to my girlfriend and me, but just seeing their behavior, like so many times lately, caused my girlfriend to start the sentence she says more than seemingly any other these days “If I EVER would have behaved that way as a kid…” but then she trailed off, knowing that I knew the end of the statement and that she and I live on some sort of island where children should behave as something other than animals in public. Thinking about the experience, I knew I could bash out a 1,000 word soapbox telling the story and bemoaning what our culture has become but then I figured “what’s the point?”

So instead, I decided to sit at my kitchen counter in my beautiful home sealed off from the rest of the world and type whatever this is on my brand new laptop as I watch golf and football on my giant TV.

One thing that never changes as the world seems to get crazier and crazier is my indifference towards seemingly everything happening around me, as long as I control what I can control; my life, my dogs, my relationships, my money, etc. And in the end, that’s the point. I wonder if anyone has taken the time to reflect on the craziness that is what we’ve created; we have a society of people filled with grievances and anger, and absolutely no agreement on what to do about any of them. So people yell louder, get madder and accomplish nothing of any consequence while ignoring, or at the very least, neglecting their own lives. Is it possible that the reason we’re all so angry and miserable with each other is because we’re so angry and miserable? Could it be that looking inward and fixing ourselves and accepting the total lack of control we have over pretty much everything else might be the beginning of the solution to everything?

After sitting through countless opportunities to eavesdrop on countless people throughout the weekend at cocktail parties, meals, plane rides, stores and more, I was amazed at how good everyone is at solving all of the problems around them and pointing out what’s wrong with everyone else and everything that everyone other than them are doing. Just like my girlfriend and I started to do with those rat ass kids Saturday morning at breakfast. We’re all such geniuses, and yet we’re a nation of idiots. Rude, self involved, entitled idiots. So what exactly am I supposed to write?

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