Not the usual business (writing): No words

Some events seem to stop the world: You just cannot go on with your usual business. [The gods of SEO won’t let me write “business as usual.” The gods of SEO hate prepositions.]

The attacks on 9/11 stopped the world like that, seemingly in an instant. At least it happened in an instant for those of us in New York. As the twin towers smoldered downtown, my friend Lauren, safe in a midtown office, saw a press release come across the wire (or whatever internet-thing press releases come across) from a company in a distant part of the country. The PR flak who wrote it had made a last-minute adjustment in light of recent events, so headline began: “And now for some GOOD news…”

No, the fact that Ridiculous Corporation has just announced a new product does not qualify as “good news.” Not today—if ever. After 8:46 in the morning, 9/11 stopped being a day for the usual business. No new product release could trump (note to self: must find a new verb) the horrific news the country was struggling to grasp.

I thought about that 9/11 press release yesterday morning, on 11/9—the universe has a twisted sense of humor, right?—while dealing with the inconceivable election results. I intended to write about concession speeches and victory speeches, but just in case that didn’t pan out for some reason, I had queued up a post about how to introduce speakers.

In the wee hours of the morning, I went online to reschedule the post for a later date, but instead it looked I’d managed to post it immediately. Oops. It seemed unwise to goad the technology gods further, so I went to bed.

But I had neither rescheduled it nor posted it immediately. It hit the blog and my subscribers’ in-boxes right on time on Wednesday morning. And in doing so, it immediately became the most trivial thing I’ve ever written.

Words/no words

It’s become cliché to say “There are no words.”

I hate clichés, almost as much as I hate bigots. But really, dudes, I got nothing more for you today.

Whichever side of this election you were on, be good to the humans you share this country—and this planet—with.

Peace out.