Day: April 26, 2024

He waited quietly for the buzz of his smartwatch to tell him another player had come off the board. Around him the noise of the restaurant drowned out the few desperate flickers of conversation she attempted between bites of a seventy five dollar steak. He hadn’t touched his own meal, a pasta of some sort with a peculiar green sauce drizzled on top that the waiter reminded him was posh. Instead he sipped at his old fashioned, the fourth he’d had this evening.

“What do you think?” She said again.

“It’s an idea.” He replied, without even knowing what she was talking about. Over the past year he’d mastered a series of open-ended responses that would continue her side of the conversation without him needing to concern himself too greatly about the content.

“What’s your idea then?” Her voice showed anger.

“I’m one hundred percent in support of yours, honey. I don’t think that me coming up with something random on the spot when you’ve clearly thought through this does either of us any good.”

She stared at him for a long moment and then went back to her steak.

His watch buzzed. He reached for his drink, careful to tilt his thumb downwards enough to see the information on the display. Houston was selecting Charlie Watters with the 22nd pick.

Some Thoughts:

1. TBH my heart wasn’t into this freewrite. I started with the idea of generating another juror mixed in with the moment I had the other night of my own smartwatch feeding me picks. Then it morphed into something else entirely and I started to imagine that the character was an agent living in Scottsdale who had a client who was expected to go in the later rounds, so he’d agreed to this dinner with his wife thinking it would be a way to balance work and home and make her feel valued in the moment, but he doesn’t value her, so he’s actually focused on the situation taking place a few states away. It didn’t get there, but that has been the way for me when it comes to drafts lately. I lay down the bones of a thing and then I add more soul in the rewrite. I wonder how many authors function this way?

This is being written on textedit

I haven’t logged into the internet and I don’t expect I will be doing that this evening on the computer. I am typing as I watch Spanglish with the woman I love, a curious thing, perhaps, given the situation of the movie. I can watch things like this with her, because we’re solid. We are aware of who we are and of the things we want and need from each other. It’s an important distinction to be made when watching a movie that is in essence about fidelity and defining the shape and style and boundaries of love. Being in love and trusting love have never been an issue for us. Our issues exist, as they do with all loving couples. However, they are not that. 

In truth I think one of our issues are my obsessions. One such obsession is football. She tolerates it. She loves that I have the love for it, but she recognizes that I can go overboard, as I have with the relentless observation of the transfer portal as it relates to Colorado Football and the deep dive I’ve taken into the first round of the NFL draft over the past few weeks, hoping the Giants didn’t make the mistake of Drake Maye. They didn’t BTW. They tried—by all accounts they really really tried. The Patriots wound up keeping their pick and selecting that guy with the expectation he’s going to be wonderful. 

Tall supposedly mobile white qbs are like catnip to GMs. The fact is that the majority of these dudes selected in the first round are unsuccessful or at best, middling. Maybe he’s going to be different, but I really don’t think he will be. The lack of strong WRs and a top shelf line last year exposed him. He isn’t going to any better of a situation and a much rougher division than he was in during college…

Well, that’s ten. That’s me rambling . Good night, my readers.