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  • Hi - just a father, raconteur, and part-time gonzo journalist who tends to be a bit intoxicated by the absurdity of life. This small space is my single bubble in the champagne glass and that's ok by me. Welcome and Enjoy -

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  • "I don't want to achieve immortality through my work... I want to achieve it through not dying." W. Allen
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    It is a strange journey indeed. Most of us spend our days in a garbled and impatient world continously contributing to the decay of the exercise of profound thought, or any original thought for that matter, and, keystroke by keystroke, burping out words and sentence fragments that neither communicate our intended message nor resemble "writing." I, too, wade through the legalease in a profession that has historically prided itself on attention to detail and precision. In my bubble, writing and interpersonal communication generally appear to be devolving into repetitive, loud, misleading, repetitive, and partially completed exchanges borne from rote rather than consideration. Taking license to freely exaggerate and sound a good thirty years older than my age, emailing and texting will be the death of our use of langauge, not just our writing. The proliferation of their use and the expected immediacy of a response essentially require us to act reflexively instead of thoughtfully. I notice people taking far more pride in the perceived timeliness of their response over the quality of its substance and form. That is disappointing. So I must say that I applaud what you are doing here. There are times when it is great to release that which is confined or restrained, perhaps for the sake of it alone or to reconcile what ails us about our professional lives. It is important to remain faithful to who we are and that is difficult to do when our jobs, which are necessary, do not represent our essence. Sometimes a guy dons a sharp suit just because he enjoys the pulling of his tie, the sound the fabric makes when pulling the jacket over his shirt, the look when pulling his shirt just past the cuffs, and the uniform yet individual expression of the ritual. But not because it will draw the attention of the attractive woman he passes everyday on the street. For what is worth, I encourage you to continue to stretch your mental legs as it helps me to unfurl mine, which are often cramped by my desk, car, cabs, trains, and airplanes.


    "Island of Broken Toys" is a great description. I liked this post.

    Your buddy, Stephen, needs to dumb it down for folks like me.

    your pal,
    Susan... or Burt... but I kind of like Catherine... or Jack...

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