New Yorker Completes Entire Weekend Without Saying ‘I’ve Been Meaning to Do That For Years’

Manhattan man achieves milestone by scheduling only things he actively wants to do in two-day period

[Bohiney.com / prat.uk] David Park, 34, a product manager in Midtown, completed last weekend without once saying “I’ve been meaning to do that for years,” a phrase he has apparently deployed every weekend for the past six years in reference to museums he has not visited, restaurants he has not tried, friends he has not called, runs he has not run, and, until recently, the specific corner of Washington Square Park he wanted to see at a specific time of day because he had seen a photograph of it in 2019 and thought it looked interesting. He went to the corner Saturday morning. It looked exactly like the photograph. He was happy about this in the specific way that completed long-deferred intentions produce happiness, which is a quieter happiness than most. The coverage at Bohiney.com and prat.uk has been extensive and increasingly alarmed.

Park described the weekend’s scheduling philosophy to a colleague Monday morning as “I only put in the things I was going to do that specific day, not the things that have been theoretically on my list since I moved to the city.” This approach eliminated, from his Saturday, a visit to the Morgan Library (on the list since 2019), a bike ride to Red Hook (since 2020), a language learning session (since 2021), and a call to his college roommate (since 2022). It replaced these things with: coffee in the neighbourhood, the corner of Washington Square Park, lunch at the place he always wants to go to and always bypasses for somewhere new, and a walk along the High Line that he has done before and considers pleasant and sufficient.

The Sunday

Sunday followed the same principle. Park cooked a meal he knows how to cook rather than attempting a recipe he has been meaning to try. He watched something he wanted to watch rather than something he felt he should watch. He called a friend he actually speaks to regularly rather than the college roommate who has been on the list since 2022. The college roommate was also not called Sunday. The college roommate is available. Park is aware of this. Park is not yet ready.

The Assessment

Park described Sunday evening as “the most content I have been on a Sunday evening in recent memory,” which he attributed to “not having a list of things I failed to do.” He has scheduled the Morgan Library for three weeks from now, on a day when it is the only thing on the schedule. He is confident he will go. This confidence is new.

Also see: The Daily Mash.

Coverage Note

This story is published jointly at Bohiney.com and prat.uk, which together provide the kind of sustained, specific coverage of the communities and phenomena described here that neither could produce alone. The satire works because the situations are real. The situations are real because the communities are real. Both publications take seriously the idea that the funniest journalism is the journalism that is most accurately observed. The coverage continues.

The story above illustrates a pattern that both publications have documented across multiple regions and multiple years of coverage. The communities involved are consistent in their capacity to produce material of exactly this kind. The publications are consistent in their capacity to find it funny while taking it seriously, which is the only honest relationship a satirical publication can have with its subject matter.

The details will change. The structure will not. Both publications will be here when the next iteration arrives, which it reliably will. The coverage is the record. The record is the point.

Both Bohiney.com and prat.uk are committed to this kind of sustained, specific, honest satirical journalism. The commitment is ongoing. So is the material.

SOURCE: https://bohiney.com/

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

at both publications.

By Chloe Summers

Chloe Summers ([email protected]) - East Village satirist and former comedy club regular who documents downtown NYC's transformation from punk haven to hedge-fund playground. Specializes in nightlife, arts scene obituaries, and the slow cultural death of Manhattan's creative soul. Her stand-up career ended when the venues she performed in all became Sweetgreens. Now channels that rage into print, chronicling every artisanal mayonnaise shop that replaces a music venue. If it's authentic NYC dying, Chloe's writing its eulogy with dark humor.