It\u2019s been twenty years since Black October, when a power outage on the day we had to ship an entire trade show with handwritten airbills kicked off weeks and weeks of running to stand still. No good inventory, no idea what our stock was, just figure it out in order on a daily basis and ship as far as you can down the list. I\u2019ve written before about how I was able to hide myself behind a wall of Pelican cases, put on Virgin Radio and just disappear out of time in a way that hearkened back to those early days hiding under the bleachers at day care. At some level, I think that\u2019s why I still want to work remotely, or at the very least be in a place where I can hide myself from a big open crowd of nonsense (which is not possible in my current formal workspace at the office, where nothing actually requires my presence). <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I don\u2019t remember what I thought about the incoming election, although I\u2019m pretty sure I had given it up for lost by the end of the month. But the damage was already done, and the sense was \u201cwell things won\u2019t get any better\u201d rather than \u201cwell things are about to get worse.\u201d Which is why I feel like it\u2019s going to be a difficult run in these last five weeks, with no more direct confrontations and another war breaking out in the Middle East and no reliable polling information and a national media salivating at the prospect of bringing back their drama queen meal ticket. Unlike twenty years ago, I don\u2019t have the prospect of earning a permanent spot with a desirable employer if I keep making my best effort, and I don\u2019t have the excitement of a new world and a new life propelling me. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I just want to be left alone. I\u2019m willing to contribute to making the world a better place, I\u2019m willing to give way to the younger generations and their aspirations, I just want to mind my business and see out my days without things getting any worse. But that\u2019s what aging is: increasing the speed with which you have to run to stand still. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
So much of this year has felt like a bucket list run. Do everything you wanted to do one last time. Disney. London. Dublin. Yosemite. Take in the most important things while you can, before the world ends. I\u2019ve been a little too loose with the money, I\u2019ve had the extra pint, I\u2019ve used the PTO days. Maybe we make it, maybe things work out okay, but if they don\u2019t, I don\u2019t want to have wasted my wishes. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
And then, if we make it through December, we have to change the rules. Things won\u2019t go back to how they used to be. Like baseball. If you want to undo analytics optimization that works the system, you have to change the system. No more shift, bigger bases, add a pitch clock. Expand the Court, eliminate the filibuster, end venue shopping in federal cases. It will not be quick, and it will not be simple. The tasks are great, the work is hard, and we are going to labor all night knowing we won\u2019t all see the sun rise. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
But we thank God for the work. We\u2019re lucky to have the work. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
It\u2019s been twenty years since Black October, when a power outage on the day we had to ship an entire trade show with handwritten airbills kicked off weeks and weeks of running to stand still. No good inventory, no idea what our stock was, just figure it out in order on a daily basis and … <\/p>\n