<p>This is my 800th column. I started writing for newspapers in the year 2000, one article every week for 16 years. I have never missed a deadline.</p>
<p>The 800th is always the toughest, don’t you think? I’m stuck. No ideas, no thoughts. I have writer’s block. Writer’s block is when, well it’s kind of like, you know, it happens after you … it’s a time when you can’t … I think you get the picture.</p>
<p>I’ve been suffering with it for the last month. As I recall, I woke up with it in the middle of the night. I was sweating, heart palpitating, discomfort in my chest. At first I thought it was a heart attack. With a heart attack, trained physicians insert a tube in your leg vein and shove it up your groin, then toward your heart, to clear the blockage.</p>
<p>I should be so lucky. At least there’s a treatment for cardiac arrest.</p>
<p>In order to overcome this writer’s ailment, I considered trying a number of techniques that some of my writer friends have warned against. I got down my huge volumes of Art Buchwald, Andy Rooney and Dave Barry essays. I mean, these books were just filled with great ideas: why sock sizes are silly, the junk you find when you clean out your fridge, when not to tip a waiter, the problem with haircuts, funny street names, weird things airline pilots say, strange recipes with ketchup. I was in heaven.</p>
<p>My problem was solved. Except I had a new problem: journalistic integrity. Not that that had ever been a problem for me before.</p>
<p>You see, this is the dilemma with coming up with new creative ideas. Basically, you’re always too late.</p>
<p>Here’s an example: several months ago I wrote an essay on napping. A few days later I was talking to an old friend. I had sent him the column and wanted to know what he thought.</p>
<p>“Yes, very funny, Dick. By the way, did you know that Leonardo da Vinci wrote a very clever essay on napping?”</p>
<p>“You’re kidding. When was that?”</p>
<p>“Oh, about 500 years ago.”</p>
<p>“Do you think I’m the first since da Vinci?”</p>
<p>“I’m sure you are, Dick. I’m sure you are.”</p>
<p>Well, that made me feel a little better. I just hope the da Vinci family doesn’t read any of the newspapers my column appears in. I don’t want to get sued. That’s not the kind of family you want legal problems with.</p>
<p>I tried one more thing. I didn’t bathe, shave or eat for several days. By adopting this strict, austere presence, I hoped my creative juices would flow as with all starving, desperate writers who are dedicated to the art of the printed word. I forgot that a lot of this deprived, destitute stuff is actually because they can’t think of an idea, either.</p>
<p>I had hoped my 800th column would be a really good one. So, can we not count this one? Let’s see what happens next week.</p>
