Again, I struggled finding a column idea. And I had TWO to write this weekend--my regular column and also a requested column for a special Tribune Conference section. I wrote three conference columns. THREE. None of them felt right, although I may post one of them here tomorrow. I like some of what I wrote, but I don't think it's what my editor will be looking for.
Maybe I'm struggling so much right now because I've been reading West of Sunset by Stewart O'Nan, which is a richly imagined portrait of F. Scott Fitzgerald's sad last days in Hollywood?
Yes. I'm F. Scott Fitzgerald now.
Anyway, I started paying attention to the snatches of conversation floating past me and suddenly I had an idea. Here it is.