I Just Need to Write Something

I entered the year with high hopes of getting back to the hobby I love – writing.  Well, God saw fit to stick me on a plane with a laptop and not much else to do.  So here we are.

I am returning from a convention in the nation’s capital. I had tons of fun. I met many people that (at least) I consider famous – mostly YouTube celebs but some other true, famous folks. The reason I want to write is because my son wants me to write. Remember how I told you that I had been reading old posts to him? Well, after several months of this I’m almost running out of posts! So he admonished me to write more. Coming right up, son.

But the question is, as the title says, what do I write about?

I could write about coronavirus.

Wow, great going Harvey.  Stoke the panic.  In reality, I do not know what this is all about.  I am sure that when I read my grandchildren these posts years from now; we will scratch our heads and say, “What’s coronavirus, Grandpappy?”  I have determined they will call me ‘grandpappy’ because it sounds fun.  I will say that my flight is half-full which is odd for a Saturday afternoon direct flight.  Nothing more to write about on this Wuhan one.

I could write about how much I love and miss my kids.

The past few days I’ve been away I have enjoyed visiting with the good friends I’ve missed seeing in this part of the country.  I’ve loved hearing talks by people I admire.  I’ve really been thrilled by the availability of the speakers in the hotel lobby and their down-to-earth-ness.  But nothing to me will ever come close to being with my kids.  They’re growing up too fast.  Every minute passes too quickly.  And three days away from them is an eternity.  I’m really looking forward to walking in the door and shouting “Daddy’s home!” and being greeted by silence because they’re fixated on anything else.  Perhaps they missed me too?

I could write about the kid kicking the back of my seat.

Nope.  I’m sure my children did the same once upon a time and it’s a hardship I will lovingly endure.

I could write about this…  I’m watching live TV in-flight.  This service carries the New York local stations and I’m watching my old favorite, WNBC.  When I was a kid, the production value, the talent, just everything about this local station drew me in and made me want to be a news anchor.  We know how that turned out.  But the weird thing is that in the few years I’ve been gone from the New York area things have changed.  The studio is smaller, the music isn’t as driving, and the male anchors… I almost can’t bring myself to say it… they have no ties.  This is disturbing to me on so many levels.  A man presenting the news on television should always have a tie neatly tied around his neck.  I can’t say any more about this; but I will.  It is truly sad.  I do not want casual.  I want you to let me know you care about me.  And it wasn’t just the main anchor.  It was the sports and weather guy too.  Shout out to Al Roker and Len Berman who used to fill these roles waaaaay back in the day.  And you KNOW that my favorite broadcasters ever – Chuck Scarborough and Sue Simmons – would never let this happen.  Perhaps it’s an appeal to millennials?  No, that’s not right.  Not everyone born between certain years lacks intelligence.  Although…  Two nights ago I stood outside a public house in Washington as a young woman approached me to borrow a cigarette.  My lighter had been absconded at a security checkpoint so I offered her a small book of matches.  She actually said to me “Um, I don’t… I just don’t know how to use those; or even what they are…”  Matches, sister, matches.  Close cover, strike.  It’s not that complicated.

I think they’re trying to land the plane now so I kind of have to go.  Shame I never came up with a topic or four about which to write.