Sunday, April 10, 2005

A Wise Man Named Weissman ...

One day, long ago, when I worked for the Chicago Tribune, I worked for a man named Randy Weissman.

Randy had a birthday, one day, long ago, when I worked for the Chicago Tribune, and I took him to lunch.

And Randy, genuinely interested in what I was planning on doing with my life (his curiousity nearly equaled my own), asked me what it was I really wanted to be doing.

"I should work for Martha Stewart," I said.

Randy smiled. "You don't want to *work* for Martha Stewart," he said. "You want to *be* Martha Stewart."

The interesting thing about those two statements is the duplicity. What he was saying, I believe, was, "No, if you're going to follow that domestic-diva path, you should strive to be the best." But what he said can also be taken very literally, as declarative sentences. Rephrased: "I don't want to work for Martha Stewart. I want to be Martha Stewart."

Humph. Look at that. My friends all seem to think the same thing. I cook. I bake. I write. I decorate. I make interesting invitations and throw good parties. I can grow things in my yard. Though I must say, I don't raise my own chickens for their farm-fresh eggs.

One wonders, then, what's holding me back?

That is another topic for another time.


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