Why I'm not a Writer

Why I'm not a Writer
I am not a writer because when I have the best thoughts, I'm not near a computer, and I'm too lazy to write longhand these days. I think I'll jot some things down when I get back to the computer at work, or whip out a pad and sit outside for a few minutes, but I don't...There is always a running narrative in my head wherever I am and whatever I'm doing, and it's always good - very descriptive and in the moment -- but I don't ever write the way I think, and I don't have the energy or patience to get it down on paper or computer the way I want.

As I walk through Kendall Square it's warm and sunny and I want to write about the buildings and the trees and the acorns falling onto the 6th street path, and the turkey who lives in the square and wanders among the Biogen buildings. How nice it feels to sit in the little garden near the garage and feel the sun on my face..I want to write about the stark changes from the old warehouses (my building and a few other holdovers) to the new brick and glass towers across Binney Street. The famous MIT buildings which only had numbers, and where important ideas became things like RADAR - all toppled and replaced by colorful buildings with strange assymetrical walls and windows. New luxury condos, new laboratories and companies with funny made up names.

Even the trees on Binney are being cut down... the stumps have been left, and they are encircled by new mulch - but what is going to replace them? I want to write about how it felt going back to Zamir rehearsals every week. And lots of stuff that I can't even remember now because at some point when nothing is happening, the narrator in my head shuts down.

What about how it feels to be adrift on the Jewish Holidays without family... "taken in" by people who become your family when they figure you have no one else to be with. I'm sticking close to home since it's easier, but I could have gone to see the "other" Phyllis Werlin in Weston, or to Alan's cousins in Framingham.

I could even ditch Malden after Musaf and drive to Waltham, but I doubt I could even find the place again. so there you go.... and now... bedtime.