R.I.P., Arthur Schlesinger.

New York Magazine has a long article this week about the gay attorney vs. big law firm lawsuit that I mentioned a few weeks ago.

This description of Aaron Charney, the plaintiff, sounds very familiar to me:

He says he’d never had a gay experience until he was 25 — “I wouldn’t call it a relationship,” he says. He wanted all his ducks in a row — the B.A., the J.D., the secure career track — before reckoning with that part of his identity. “You come to a point where you realize that issues are no longer malleable, and you know who you are, and you make a decision,” he says. “You have to really know yourself before you make a decision like that. Because you don’t want to regret it later.”

Much of the article, though, is about the crappy attitude and behavior of several of the partners at Sullivan & Cromwell. Reading the article just reaffirms for me that I would never have survived five minutes in a place like that. And I don’t understand high-stress lawyers who treat other people like shit. How do those people live with themselves? So you make a lot of money? So what? People like him and her should be ashamed of themselves.

Incidentally, I’m creeped out by David Lat’s coverage of the case. I went to Lat’s site today for the first time in a couple of weeks to see what he had to say about the New York Magazine article. It turns out that he’s visited Charney’s apartment building and blogged about it. That goes beyond obsessive.

I had brunch with my family yesterday. My parents are going to Israel in April. My brother and his wife are going to Peru next week. As for Matt and I, we have no travel plans.

I’m trying to figure out if I’m okay with that. My dad said Matt and I should travel somewhere, and we’ve talked about it occasionally. But I don’t have the money for it. Or at least I think I don’t. I have a very little savings cushion – less than one month’s living expenses.

Travel just seems like such a pointless thing to spend money on. You spend money on a trip and then you go on the trip and all you’re left with is memories. Why travel? I’m not too interested in seeing new places when I could just read about them. The only benefit I see in traveling is that it breaks up your routine and gives you some new experiences. But is that worth hundreds of dollars?

I admit, I’m also a little scared about travelling. The unknown. I’ve lived in Japan and travelled in the Far East, but it was with my family. Most of my vacations have been with my parents.

My dad said I should “live a little.” Why does that have to mean traveling?

And yet I’m envious whenever I hear of people who have gone to the Caribbean or gone to Berlin or wherever.

But why spend, again, hundreds of dollars, just to break up your routine?

Am I right about this? I don’t feel right about it. I don’t know.

Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to tell me what’s so great about traveling.