My mom got us tickets to a talk at the 92nd Street Y, with MSNBC's talk show "Morning Joe," co-hosts Mika Brzezinski and Joe Scarborough. Both Mika and Joe have new books out. The talk focussed on them as a team on the morning circuit, but mostly honed in on the crux of Mika's book: "All Things At Once." The book, and the talk concerned Mika's career as a high-profile anchor/reporter for CBS, and consequently her being fired on her thirty-ninth birthday, and her having to start all over again, from scratch. This is the rub. In the talk, Mika said she hounded MSNBC, and would take anything, any job to get back in the business. These words are gospel. I too, would take any job to get back in the business. I just need for someone to give me one of those jobs. I wagered last night as my mom and I waited on the book signing line. My mom was in line for an autograph for her friend who is a huge fan of Mika's, and I was in line to see if Mika would sympathize with my plight or brush me off. She didn't brush me off. A kindred spirit? Maybe. I handed in a small summary of my parallel experience - of not being able to wrangle a way back in. I included my website, and this blog, on a piece of paper. Mika liked the name of the blog, sympathized with my plight, and had her talent producer hand me her business card. I have to be honest, some faith in my fellow New Yorkers was restored. This small gesture of taking me in, at least initially, meant the world to me. Que sera sera. In the interim though, my itchy feet are telling me to stay firmly grounded on terra firma, with some flexibility for sporadic flight into uncharted skies.
Monday, January 25, 2010
The Two Year Itch
My feet were itching last night as I was falling asleep. I don't think it's a mean case of athlete's foot, I think something is in the air; maybe a brush with luck. Gamblers talk about physical sensations indicating a transcendental flight from a present reality, ie. my feet are itching, I will win the lottery, or in my case, my feet are itching, I will win a job. I am gambling, things are at stake here. I wager a wonder, I hazard a guess, I venture for victory.
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One day there'll be a sun flare wiping out communication satellites, and our digital-cyber-me-generation will stare in befuddlement on their i-widgets (their "digital assistants", their brain-extensions, their spirit-implants...), their presumable lifelines to the presumable real world, bewildered that there is now a blank screen. A technological wipeout leading to a global epiphany: Addiction to these widgets is making us unlearn meaningful, respectful interaction between two spirits. A crutch towards telepathy they may be, but replacing human kindness and decency they cannot. It will be the time we find back to our roots again, only then able to bring technology and humanity full circle.
ReplyDeleteBoris the Prophet ;-)