This is the end, as Jim Morrison sang. The end of this blog, that is. I'm hanging up my keyboard. And I'm not happy about it, I assure you. I've had a lot of fun doing this and I think we've had some good back-and-forth among thoughtful people of varying views.
The problem is time. I basically volunteered to do this. When I took it on, my workload wasn't lightened proportionately, and that workload is, contrary to what some people think of the cushy life of the columnist, substantial. A good column requires significant amounts of thinking, researching, and writing. The big-name American columnists turn out two columns a week with the aid of staff and the ability to get almost anyone on the phone that comes from being a big-name American columnist. I have neither staff nor clout and I write three columns a week. In fact, since my columns are longer than most, my weekly production is almost double that of Thomas Friedman, David Brooks, or any other Big Name you care to mention.
It's come to the point where, I think, both my columns and this blog were suffering, the blog in particular. At its best, a blog feels like a fabulous dinner party conversation: It's quick and light, the subject constantly shifts, people chime in with witticisms and deep thoughts and nonsense. But that requires an energetic host with undivided attention, and I haven't been that for some time. As a result, the party has become a little dull and tired. That may be acceptable for some of the regulars -- bless 'em -- but it's not good enough for me. I have standards, dammit. It's time to do the dishes and go to bed.
So now, one last time, let's all sing together. Then everybody get your coat and clear out.
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