Sorry I’ve been such a no-show these last few days. Mostly it’s tunnel vision, mixed in with a soupçon of laziness and a big dash of emptyhead. This summer has been wearying, and at some point I want to lay in the news like a swimmer in the shallow surf. Just let it wash over me, but not necessarily have anything to say about it.
In other words, I’m getting stupider. Just a while ago I poured dishwasher soap into the designated slots, started the machine, turned around and put the soap in the refrigerator.
But the season is still enjoyable. Today the three of us met up for dinner at a pizza place not far away, two of us on bikes, and that’s something you don’t do in January, fo sho.
So I have to ask: Why isn’t this getting more attention? Graham Spanier, the former Penn State president who should be sitting at home in a dark room covered with sackcloth and ashes, seems to have landed on his feet. He’ll be working for the government, on “projects related to national security.” As Paul Campos said over at LGM, “Because if there’s one thing Graham Spanier knows how to do it’s to make sure that sensitive information doesn’t fall into the hands of the wrong people.”
It’s really true, isn’t it? Once you’ve passed a certain threshold of success — a shifting, shadowy threshold — you can no longer fail. You’re incapable of failure. You land on your feet. Always. Where is that threshold?
One of my fellow cyclists posted this on Facebook today: The case for the “Idaho stop.” Or, to put it another way — acknowledging reality.
Hank was at the poolside NBC party in Los Angeles the other day, the one that She-Who disrupted by her very presence. He reports she was tiny and spray-tanned from head to toe. The New York magazine reporter asked her why she and her family couldn’t stay off TV. Because they believe in “living life vibrantly,” she said. Noted. (Bzzzzz.)
Obviously, my energy hasn’t yet returned. But I’m recovering, eh?