I lost my writing mojo a couple of weeks ago following the death of close friend. I'm usually pretty resilient in the face of heartbreak but as my friend Michael Ruhlman wrote in a recent email "sometimes life drops a ceiling beam on your head" and there is nothing you can do until consciousness returns. Well, I'm not yet fully conscious yet. I still feel like a sailor who was about to come about on a good run on a smooth sea and got knocked overboard by the boom. However I am awake enough to realize that if I'm ever going to write anything of moment again, I should start taking baby steps now.
So here is my hand coming up out of the water and grasping the gunwale. I hope to be flopping around in the bottom of the boat coughing up sardines soon. In the meantime, please accept my apologies for appearing to have jumped ship and consider for a moment how much worse life would be if our livelihoods were dependant on cheap chicken wings.
"Shares of Buffalo Wild Wings may be overcooked, as soaring wing prices and a recession threaten to take a bite out of the fast-growing restaurant chain's profits." (Star Tribune)