Already ressurrecting myself from the exhaustion of keeping up with the breakneck pace of hopefuls trying to hang onto or get a sip from the cup of power afforded by municipal politics, I’m gearing up now for what to me is the better pursuit: the main stage at New York’s prestigious Carnegie Hall.
I have no personal interest in municipal politics. But as a journalist I’ve been compelled since campaign season opened in January to devote large blocks of time to chronicling the comings and goings of quite a large field of persons to whom it matters greatly, and also of those impacted by the characteristics some of the races have taken on. Pleasing some of the people some of the time is not a 9-to-5 pursuit. The clock does keep running well past closing time.
The streaking comet that is Oct. 27 cannot pass early enough. Looking back at the personal life allowed to lapse while my attention has been thus occupied, I note the number of performance opportunities of the artistic kind — my first love — having passed me by. I assure you, the votes will scarcely have been counted before I will have changed costume. Continue reading