Tuesdays
In
the interest of disclosure
I'd like to share with you
that I'm writing this at the
last minute. I wanted you
to know just in case there
are any grievous spelling
errors, horrendous grammatical
mistakes, or paragraphs that
utterly fail to make sense.
Admittedly,
this is no different than
most of my columns, but at
least this time there is an
excuse.
Technically,
this column is due today.
Or maybe it was last Tuesday
- I don't know anymore. The
last 14 days have been a blur
of Jagermeister, highway toll
booths, backstage at Jimmy
Buffett shows, fast food,
Yankee stadium and one birthday
party for a four year old.
I'm not sure if I'm coming,
going, or have already left
and sent the postcard. Or
maybe I sent the postcard,
but forgot to put a stamp
on it because, you know, I
am rushing quite a bit.
Did
I tell you that I talked to
Jimmy Buffett on the phone?
What about the private party
I played where everyone wore
tropical shirts and leis?
Or the two blonde sisters
who love Jagermeister?
Sorry,
I'm getting off topic. We
were discussing why this column
is in danger of being late,
Or maybe why it is late -
I'm still not sure.
What
I am sure about is that procrastination
alone is not my problem, but
rather procrastination coupled
with eternal optimism. When
faced with a looming deadline,
I assume that I will be able
to meet it. When that deadline
has passed, I convince myself
that I'll catch up later that
evening, and so it goes for
several days.
To
wit: I actually have an extra
column written. It just needs
about twenty minutes of editing
and it could be ready for
today. Or last Tuesday. But
I optimistically figured that
I would write a new one, a
funny one about New Jersey
or something. So I keep saving
the extra column.
I
mean, with almost three years
of columns written, I could
also easily throw out a "Best
Of" piece every once
and a while and save myself
the trouble of having to meet
a deadline. But I figure there's
no need for that because I'm
only an hour away from writing
the new one.
But
then there was the band show
I had to get ready for, complicated
by the (admittedly improving)
voice issues and the fact
that the band hasn't played
or rehearsed in six months.
And then I only got two hours
of sleep that night before
going to Yankee Stadium and
wandering through Harlem and....
I'm
off topic again. Bear with
me.
I'm
not proud of my little problem
with deadlines, but I am comforted
to know that I'm not the first
creative person who has trouble
finishing a project on a randomly
assigned day like, say, Tuesday
the 27th. Cartoonist Berke
Breathed of "Bloom County"
fame was notorious for waiting
until 72 hours before his
strip was due, and then banging
out almost an entire month's
worth in 3 sleepless days.
Upon finishing, he would race
his package of comics to the
airport and throw it on a
plane, since the deadline
to get it there via the U.S.
Postal Service had long passed.
Late
author Douglas Adams used
to actually force his agents
to show up at his house several
months after deadline and
wait in the living room for
days while he handed in pages
two or three at a time. It
was Adams who also wrote (presumably
with his agent in the living
room): "I love deadlines.
I like the whooshing sound
they make as they fly by."
Hey
- at least I did finish this
column by Tuesday. Which Tuesday
is really just a minor detail,
hardly worthy of mention,
isn't it?
This
column © 2002 Lee Totten.
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