I'm eager to accomplish so many projects, as the heavy work load has put me behind on basic day to day non-work-related things. I hope this weekend will allow me to find a little time to get things done on personal errands and even hobby projects. My wife has agreed to participate in one of those Xmas 'tour a cool house' things for a club to which she belongs. This means we won't get to do anything fun together during the day Saturday or Sunday. Perhaps I can use the time to get caught up on dozens of things. The funny thing about working "to do" lists, though, is that they do not get accomplished "one dozen things at a time", but instead one by one by one, which fails to give a pure thrill of accomplishment.
Last year November was my crunch month, when I tried a jury trial and an arbitration back to back. This year, December and January appear to be extremely busy months. Of course, I've had career phases that have been much busier than this one. But this is a busy time indeed.
I dislike that when I am stressed, I can also feel "put upon" more easily than is needful or useful. I can also procrastinate personal life things in favor of the rush at work. I want to take a deep breath and simply do it all. Yes, that's my simple ambition--to be omni-dextrous, omniscient and omni-talented. Some days I feel that all I accomplish of those simple goals is to be omni-present.
This week the news is again abuzz that the singer Michael Jackson is going to resume the witness stand in a rather mundane but high dollar breach of contract dispute over a canceled concert series. The media reaction to Mr. Jackson's peculiarities is rivalled in my mind only by the fanatical reaction of fans at the courtroom. Apparently, a brigade of truant officers is on hand to bring to justice those who ditch algebra in favor of a man who quite frankly was never for me the King of Pop. Mr. Jackson's various eccentricities seem to rivet the media gossip columnists, but in my mind, Mr. Jackson's fifteen minutes in Perry Mason land is just one more footnote to a news year filled with needless side shows.
On a more delightful theme, I marvel that Carlos Santana's strategy of using Michelle Branch as the guest lead vocalist worked out so well. I personally find Mr. Santana's continued "cool" a great inspiration in a time when "rebellious" proto-fascists hold far too much sway in popular music. I hope that I can be as cool in my fifties as he is, although I'm sure playing a guitar like an angel must be a help in that direction. I had always thought that Ms. Branch's work was interesting but missing something essential--maybe the success that resulted from this collaboration will encourage her to lighten up a little. It's so easy for a would-be folkie to spend so much time trying to seem "alive" as to squeeze the real life out of the mix. Meanwhile, I'm imagining a hypothetical future Santana album if Bjork were the "guest vocalist du jour" next time around. For that matter, I suspect that singing Santana songs could even make Fiona Apple smile.
Meanwhile, my trip to the federal courthouse yesterday again put me in proximity with the "official" photo of our Vice President.
I must admit that while I am no fan of Mr. Chaney's, who symbolizes for me much of the misguided detour this administration is on, I love the idea that his "official" smile is a friendly smirk. I suppose a good thing to result from the 1990s is that it now safe to smirk.
I see the film "The Quiet American" is being released. The original Graham Greene novel, about early American involvement in French colonial Vietnam, seems particularly relevant today. But for some reason, contrary to my usual view, I'm not sure I want to see the movie, as I cannot see how it can add to my apppreciation of the book.