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Simply Remarkable
It�s finally happened: I�m at a loss for words.  Wordless.  Nothing left to say.  That�s a long way of telling you I�ve got writer�s block.

Neither the people who know me nor myself would ever think it could happen.  I�ve always got something to say about everything. And with so much going on down the block and around the world, there�s got to be something to say about something. Anything!

Summer�s here, so I considered writing about long weekends, summer interns, and July 4th fireworks.  But those are so mundane.

I could write about our client at the corporation famous for intra-divisional information sharing who refused to share information with a manager from another division.  But that might cause the agency�s other clients to live in fear of what might be revealed about them in my not-yet-written �tell all� book.

There are great stories about Partners & Levit staffers: one who wears wacky bicycle helmets, another who e-mails a �joke du jour� every morning, one who exclusively orders from vendors that offer �free gifts with purchase,� the art director who�s so visual she never hears what I�m saying�or the research assistant who�s implored she�ll only procreate in the event she has to save the human race.  But none of their stories would be remotely interesting if you hadn�t met them personally.

Here�s an idea:  I could write about mobile phones.  They�re so convenient when you need them, but irritating in every other way:  like when someone�s phone rings during a meeting or meal (especially when the phone plays funky music instead of a civilized ring), when the woman sitting next to you on a train loudly complains on her phone about how her inconsiderate husband gets home late every evening, (that�s enroute to a very affluent suburb. How does the woman think she got the privilege to live so well?). Or when you�re meeting with a room full of executives, a mobile phone rings, and everyone in the room grabs for their phones and answers in unison, �Hello.�  Only one executive wins.

Yes, there are plenty of topics. But which is �just right� for right now?

Perhaps I�ll write about the �people shows� on New York subways, always with a great cast of characters.  My last ride included what appeared to be an administrative assistant engrossed in a romance novel, a group of European tourists taking flash photos of one another in front of a �weekend service interruption� poster, a well-groomed, impeccably dressed woman delicately applying her makeup, a distinguished senior executive sweating profusely as he gulped his cup of Dunkin Donuts coffee; with music provided by 3 talented doo-wop singers who asked for money after their performance, plus a cast of fifty others. 

Would an article like that be of interest to anyone outside New York?  Not gonna chance it.

I�ve never written about things that bother me, so that�s an idea. Things like escalators that don�t work, people who knock into me on the street and don�t say ��scuse me,� taxi drivers who don�t remember my destination, store clerks who don�t care to take my money, and offices that are too cold in the summer and too hot in the winter. That�d make me seem like a complainer, wouldn�t it?

Or I could write about things I enjoy. I enjoy my TiVo; delicious strong coffee; home delivery; animals; rivers, lakes, and oceans; and chatting with interesting people.  But would any of these, or even all combined, make for an interesting article? I don�t think so.  I�d bore myself silly writing it and would embarrass myself by asking you to read a piece so trite.  I�d be better off sending you Julie Andrews� recording of �My Favorite Things.�

Clearly, there�s no lack of topics about which to write. The issue confronting me is that of selection. Fact is, summer�s almost here, staffers have me laughing, my mobile phone just rang�and I�ve got to catch a subway to get uptown. Maybe I�ll just see what�s on TiVo and chill out.

Help me clear my writer�s block. Give me a call.  There must be something we can talk about. Call 212.696.1200.  We�ll tawk.  

Mark S. Levit