The Briefest of Dispatches from Outside Youngstown
When you read this (assuming you’re prompt), I will still be where I am as I write it: in bed at a Super 8 outside Youngstown, Ohio. My dad will be in the other bed, likely snoring, and a full-to-the-bursting Penske moving truck will sit outside, hopefully undisturbed by wildlife and over-excited patrons of the strip club across the street.
Kaylee, Jack, and I are moving from New York to Salt Lake, my hometown. In January, I will wrap up a bit more than six years of legal practice at Skadden and turn to writing full-time. I’ll say a whole lot more about it all at some point—what’s the point of spending six years in New York if you’re not going to wax elegiac while Sinatra and Keys play softly and your nose sifts through scented memories to bring you to Bryant Park in December, where you order the gyoza, fried chicken, and arepas from holiday market stalls on your favorite kind of date night, or to the Ramble in Central Park where you proposed in September, or to the hospital where you first met your son in July? That will all come, but for now, let me just say that we loved New York—loved it—and will dearly miss a whole bunch of good friends and coworkers. Also, the restaurants—my gosh, the restaurants.
There are just 16 days until the election. In an ideal world, I’d have a new 7,000 word diatribe out every day (okay, maybe not ideal—not sure I could even get my mom to read that). But, given how entertainingly intense work has been lately, the daily diatribe probably isn’t going to happen. I’m not kidding about intense: last weekend, Kaylee and I took Jack to Vermont with some of our best friends—our fourth annual Vermont trip (well, we missed one of them, but the fourth annual Vermont TripTM). I worked till 2:30 a.m., then 4:30, then 4:30 again. Other members of the team worked later than that. I left the AirBnB once—the power went out, so I had to drive 20 miles to a Starbucks to log back on and keep working. Working like that is fun on some level, especially if you’re working with a great team, and I’m not going to pretend that practicing law is the hardest job in the world—it isn’t. At the big firms, the pay and job security are hard to beat. But man, it can lead to some pretty full weekends.
I’ll be back at the writing as soon as I can manage.
Random Fact
The Yankees are going to the World Series. This brings me no joy. I wanted the Royals to win, then I wanted the Guardians to win. I wondered when we were moving to New York whether I, a rabid fan of the San Francisco Giants, would develop an affinity for either New York team. I did not. My cousin was even drafted by the Yankees in 2019—didn’t move the needle an inch.
But if the Yankees are all that stands in the breach against a Dodgers World Series victory and the grand national tragedy that would be, I will cheer for the Yankees as if I had been doing so since before I left the womb.
Random Recommendation
If you have the opportunity at some point, do a nice long road trip. There’s not a lot more American than the open road and eating too much food at a rest stop diner.
Incidentally, the Dutch Pantry Family Restaurant in Clearfield, Pennsylvania has great fries.
How can I press the heart button on this post with those irrational words about the Dodgers. I thought we never close the inquiry?! Now, I am probably Mr. Hagan's dad's age and actually witnessed real Giants play in person. I saw Juan Marichal throw at Dodgers. And Gaylord Perry throw his spitball. I watched Willie McCovey hit one into to top deck of Dodger Stadium. Willie Mays hit a Homer while I munched on a Dodger Dog and marveled at the original Bonds in his rookie year. And there was nothing like a real Dodger/Giant bench clearing.
All this with my dad sitting next to me and sharing baseball lore. Those memories will be with me utill my bottom of the ninth.
Good luck with your new frontier.
I know that Dutch Family Pantry very well lol