At this point, panic begins to set in.
OK, maybe not "panic" exactly. How about a rising sense of ... concern. A heightened awareness of circumstances. A realization that time is passing, your deadline is approaching and you've got ... nothing.
So ... ya, maybe, exactly "panic."
You see, I don't think I'm getting too "behind the curtain" here to share that if someone writes a weekly column, the one thing he or she needs every week is, well, something to write about. And while it hasn't always seemed that way, I'm not an exception to that rule.
If the general context of your columns runs towards politics, you are, literally, dynamiting fish this time of year. Just fire up the laptop, turn on CNN and let the good times roll. The only thing dumber than the next thing a politician says is the response to it, and you get to dance with that through November, and, probably, beyond.
But if you run toward General Interest (as a category, not a description, anyway), you are relying on the kindness of strangers, family members, assorted pets and your own general misfortune for topics.
And, unfortunately (in the journalistic sense, anyway), things have been pretty quiet around the Smith Homestead and Occasional Three-Ring Circus this week.
A cursory review of the typical mid-week checklist indicates:
• None of the pets has done anything insane. OK, the cat has taken to standing on its head in an effort to capture its own tail, but "cats acting weird" is sort of a needless redundancy. While this appears to produce anxiety attacks in the older dog, the younger one is content to wag its tail and run into the door, head first. Yeah, you hate it when they just jump out in front of you like that.
• The Lovely Mrs. Smith hasn't lost anything crucial. Which is not to say she hasn't lost anything. Just that the bar on "critical" may be pretty high. Ordinary items like cell phones, wedding rings, TV remotes, car keys and actual cars don't count anymore.
And it's important to remember that columnists who go to the well of the tiny little personality quirks of their significant other once too often may discover that just getting a column pounded out may be the least of their problems. Dave Barry is a very funny columnist and writer. Dave Barry has been married three times. Coincidence? One more thing for the judge to decide.
• Despite repeated opportunities this last weekend, I haven't fallen off anything. Or through anything. Or on to anything. Or off anything, through anything AND on to anything.
This is not from want of trying, of course. It's just that my latest attempts at home repair produced a bushel basket full of exceptions that prove the rule. And had absolutely no impact on my health insurance.
If this keeps up, folks at the Emergency Room will start calling to check on me, since they won't have seen me in a bit. And wonder if I've given up rewiring the chandelier without throwing the circuit breaker or cleaning out the gutters while standing on a lawn chair.
• The progeny haven't run one of our cars into our house (see: "Insult, Adding Injury To."), dyed their hair a color not found in nature, taken up an expensive sport, hobby or unpleasant-sounding-if-played-badly musical instrument or expressed a political viewpoint or parenting dictate that will come back to haunt them after the election or when (in the case of the youngest three) they actually have children, whichever comes first.
Now I'm sure this is the ominous quiet of which John Wayne so eloquently spoke. Any minute now, one of them is going to decide to become the only kind of Buddhist monk that doesn't take a vow of poverty or inform us that his or her new life's dream is to become an X-games snowmobile big air jumper (after assuring us that, yes, that is actually a thing).
But for now, silence is golden, if not exactly inspirational.
And therein lays the conundrum of mining your life for column material. Relative quiet may be good for general harmony, but it's not so great when it comes to dramatic tension or slapstick comedy.
Have no fear, though. This weekend is supposed to feature the sort of unseasonably warm weather that's perfect for getting out and replacing light bulbs on a rickety ladder or pruning trees with a sharp garden tool.
Should be back in the ER and in fresh material in no time.
Commentary on 02/26/2016