When I went to apply for a paper route, I knew it was the job for me. Tossing Atlanta Journal-Constitutions at cute suburban homes would be cushy. And when I got the call, yesterday, asking if I could start as soon as possible, I was giddy with joy. This cushy job was being placed in my fingertips. I sent e-mails to my friends, telling them of my new career. Subject line read: I AM EMPLOYED! My first official job in journalism, I joked.
Images invaded my mind for the rest of the day. I'd get up and drive to the distribution center, a few men who never really had many goals in life would load my little black car with the day's headlines and sport's scores. I'd sit and watch them with a smile on my face because I knew I would soon be driving through my hometown in the middle of the night listening to my favorite CDs and enjoying the breeze through my open window. Sure the getting up early would suck, but it'd only last, what, an hour or two? Then I'd drive myself home so I could climb back into bed, all the while pointing and laughing at those taking their places in line on the interstates.
When I went into work this morning - or last night depending on how you look at it - I realized one thing. My first official job in journalism would only last one shift. One of the "goal-less" men grunted at me and pointed to a table full of different sections from the newspaper in the middle of a grimey warehouse. I wasn't sure what to do, so I just stood there for a while. Surely someone would come explain it to me. When it finally ocurred to me that people were starring at me, I decided to glance at something besides the outside world...or my feet. I noticed my "co-workers" were all working hard, assembling the newspapers. So this might not be so bad. Ok, I have to put a few papers together before I get to do the cushy part. I guess everything has to have a downside.
"What the hell are you waiting for?" askeda very large woman who sounded like she'd smoked every cigarette sold this side of the Mississippi River and looked like she hadn't changed her beauty regiment since the mid 70s.
"Um, Diane, I think," I replied nervously. "She's supposed to show me what to do."
"Ain't nothing to it," she said as she began to organize my workspace. "Just follow my lead, it's a little tough and takes a little while to learn the rythm, but once you get the hang of it, you'll be fine." I watched as she slid four sections of the newspaper behind the front page and slapped a rubberband around it. "See, you just gotta find your rhythm, may take you a few weeks to figure it out, it can be complicated."
Um, sure.
I began assembling newspapers and it was only a matter of time before the progress of my Aveda moisturizers was gone. My hands were black, dry, cracked, papercut, and they had this strange shine to them. My head was throbbing as I listened to people who could barely talk in complete sentences or use two syllable words give their expert takes on whatever political and economic matters the AJC had plastered on the front pages. Before I knew it, I was sweating and heaving a cart with hundreds of papers on it to my car. This was not in the job description.
I'll spare you the details of the actual delivery process, but let me just say that by the end of the night, I could tell you where every gas station and convenience store in the ghetto areas of the county was and I could almost decipher thick Middle Eastern accents. I also figured out how to jump in the car quickly and lock the doors when approached by strangers in the middle of the night.
When I called the lady who hired me this afternoon, I was nervous. I wasn't sure what words I should use to tell her she had hired me for possibly the worst job ever. "I'm sorry, this just isn't working out...you see, I don't think I fit the requirements...I passed the 5th grade and I do not have a criminal record."
I braced myself for her to use a few four letter words and hang up on me, but instead she sighed and thanked me for letting her know instead of just not showing up. At that point I realized, she probably had fantasies about the job much like I had, that a nice literate person would come along, learn the job in a matter of one day, and then would stick with the company for more than a month...a week...a day. The truth is, some fantasies are just too good to be true.
That being said, I no longer work in journalism. I am no longer employed.
October 22, 2005
October 12, 2005
It's Something Unpredictable But In The End It's Right
"Green Day Used To Be Good"
I actually googled this phrase just a few minutes ago and found I am not alone in my opinion, contrary to what MTV would have you believe. I used to love Green Day. There was a time in my life when my friend, Jenni, and I spent hours listening to their music, pouring over music magazines hoping for articles or even a small picture, and even wondering what it would be like to be their girlfriends - Billie Joe for her, Mike for me. We each had every album and knew every lyric. They became part of the soundtrack of my early teen years. Granted we were in something like 7th or 8th grade, when we discovered them, but we knew what good music was. We were caught up in the alternative wave of the 90's. We had our Nirvana, Stone Temple Pilots, and Pearl Jam, but there was just something about Green Day. Time went on and like any good teenagers, our taste changed with the seasons. Nirvana became Sarah McGlaughlin, Pearl Jam became some angry rap artist of the moment, but Green Day remained Green Day, Kerplunk! only became Nimrod.
In 2001, I started working at book/music store while I was in college and we would get promotional albums for upcoming CD releases. I'll never forget the morning a co-worker turned on the overhead music system and "Longview" came blaring through the speakers. I was flooded with memories of high school crushes, late night homework sessions, and other things I probably shouldn't mention from those days. International Supserstar, a greatest hits album would be released a few weeks later and I had mixed emotions about this. Honestly, when a group releases a greatest hits album, this usually means something negative like retirement is in the works. Even so, I bought the album and it stayed in my rotation for quite a while.
After that, my taste in music shifted again and my Green Day albums became something I popped in my CD player only when I was cleaning and happened to run across one or when I was in need of some sort of 90's nostalgia.
When I heard American Idiot was coming out last year, I couldn't contain my excitment. After a few years of having Britney clones and MTV "rock groups" forced upon me, I was eager to hear something good. I just knew this would be the beginning of a new wave of great music, much like the alternative era that I had grown up in. I couldn't have been more wrong if I had predicted Y2K would wipe us off the face of the earth.
After a few years of hearing these kids who think being a good punk or rock group means caking on the makeup, spiking and dying your hair black, whining to the extent that no one can understand you, and coming up with annoying political statements, alas, something pure. Unfortunately the new Green Day is a mockery of it's former self. You may as well replace it with something from Good Charlotte...you probably wouldn't be able to tell the difference. I never thought I'd see the day the members of Green Day wallowed in mainstream culture and media hype.
It pains me to watch today's teenagers latch on to Green Day as if they are just another group cut from the mold of groups that I guess will one day shape the soundtracks of their coming of age years. I want to stop them in the streets and shake them, "You don't know the real Green Day. You don't know what real music is. You weren't there when they were first starting out, you didn't grow up with them." But maybe every lifelong music fan goes through that... or maybe I'm just getting old. Maybe it's time for me to make that switch to VH1 or better yet turn off the TV music video stations completely. I've entered a new phase in that soundtrack of my life and it includes a lot of the things my parents' generation probably listened to when they were my age. I don't know a lot about it yet, but I'm pretty sure Bob Dylan, Johnny Cash, and the Allman Brothers didn't depend on music videos and award shows to make or break them.
I actually googled this phrase just a few minutes ago and found I am not alone in my opinion, contrary to what MTV would have you believe. I used to love Green Day. There was a time in my life when my friend, Jenni, and I spent hours listening to their music, pouring over music magazines hoping for articles or even a small picture, and even wondering what it would be like to be their girlfriends - Billie Joe for her, Mike for me. We each had every album and knew every lyric. They became part of the soundtrack of my early teen years. Granted we were in something like 7th or 8th grade, when we discovered them, but we knew what good music was. We were caught up in the alternative wave of the 90's. We had our Nirvana, Stone Temple Pilots, and Pearl Jam, but there was just something about Green Day. Time went on and like any good teenagers, our taste changed with the seasons. Nirvana became Sarah McGlaughlin, Pearl Jam became some angry rap artist of the moment, but Green Day remained Green Day, Kerplunk! only became Nimrod.
In 2001, I started working at book/music store while I was in college and we would get promotional albums for upcoming CD releases. I'll never forget the morning a co-worker turned on the overhead music system and "Longview" came blaring through the speakers. I was flooded with memories of high school crushes, late night homework sessions, and other things I probably shouldn't mention from those days. International Supserstar, a greatest hits album would be released a few weeks later and I had mixed emotions about this. Honestly, when a group releases a greatest hits album, this usually means something negative like retirement is in the works. Even so, I bought the album and it stayed in my rotation for quite a while.
After that, my taste in music shifted again and my Green Day albums became something I popped in my CD player only when I was cleaning and happened to run across one or when I was in need of some sort of 90's nostalgia.
When I heard American Idiot was coming out last year, I couldn't contain my excitment. After a few years of having Britney clones and MTV "rock groups" forced upon me, I was eager to hear something good. I just knew this would be the beginning of a new wave of great music, much like the alternative era that I had grown up in. I couldn't have been more wrong if I had predicted Y2K would wipe us off the face of the earth.
After a few years of hearing these kids who think being a good punk or rock group means caking on the makeup, spiking and dying your hair black, whining to the extent that no one can understand you, and coming up with annoying political statements, alas, something pure. Unfortunately the new Green Day is a mockery of it's former self. You may as well replace it with something from Good Charlotte...you probably wouldn't be able to tell the difference. I never thought I'd see the day the members of Green Day wallowed in mainstream culture and media hype.
It pains me to watch today's teenagers latch on to Green Day as if they are just another group cut from the mold of groups that I guess will one day shape the soundtracks of their coming of age years. I want to stop them in the streets and shake them, "You don't know the real Green Day. You don't know what real music is. You weren't there when they were first starting out, you didn't grow up with them." But maybe every lifelong music fan goes through that... or maybe I'm just getting old. Maybe it's time for me to make that switch to VH1 or better yet turn off the TV music video stations completely. I've entered a new phase in that soundtrack of my life and it includes a lot of the things my parents' generation probably listened to when they were my age. I don't know a lot about it yet, but I'm pretty sure Bob Dylan, Johnny Cash, and the Allman Brothers didn't depend on music videos and award shows to make or break them.
October 04, 2005
Tiki Barber, TV Star
While I was getting ready for work this morning, I decided to turn my TV to Fox News. I thought I saw a new face on the morning show, but since Fox & Friends is fairly new to me (translation: it's on before I wake up), I'm not exactly familiar with all of the regulars. Anyway, they kept referring to Tiki Barber and it took me a minute to put two and two together. I knew he and his brother had a book coming out today, so maybe that's why he was there? It took me another few minutes of listening to him talk about supreme court judicial noimees and watching him interview the day's newsmakers to realize indeed, it was him and he wasn't just there to talk about his book. He was co-hosting the show.
Rewind back to the first week of September when I was carefully studying wide receivers and running backs, trying to decide who was worthy of being on my fantasy team this year. Tiki Barber was rated fairly well and he played for the Giants. I knew this would be the year for Eli to become great, so picking his main running back was not something I had to think long and hard about. I really knew nothing of this Tiki Barber other than he'd been a pretty good player in the past, he would be catching Eli's passes, and well, let's face it, a jock named Tiki with good stats sounds like a sure thing.
So, here I am after the fourth week of the season, down 0 & 4 against my dad's dream team of loud mouths, playboys, and ex-cons, wondering what I did wrong. Sure, I gave up a lot of great players so I could collect a few of my beloved Colts. I won last season almost singlehandedly with Peyton Manning and Marvin Harrison. But today while I was watching Tiki use words I had to look up in the dictionary, I realized something: Maybe my team is just too smart.
"A lot of people don't know this but Tiki went to college on a academic scholarship," one of the other hosts said. I am not surprised. The man was articulate, well mannered, and very intelligent, not exactly something you normally find in a star running back. I'll admit, I was impressed. Maybe I'm making a big deal out of nothing, but it's not like you turn on the TV each day to see Terrell Owens filling in for Diane Sawyer or Tom Brady interviewing the vice president.
After this debacle and looking over the damage my fantasy team has done (or not done) this year, I'm now wondering if maybe next year I should throw out the stats, the fantasy reports, and the expert inside information, and look for low college GPAs instead. If you can recite the periodic table, solve quadratic equations, or read Faulkner before he was on Oprah's booklist, you need not apply. Seriously, what's next, Jamal Lewis, Nobel Peace Prize winner?
Rewind back to the first week of September when I was carefully studying wide receivers and running backs, trying to decide who was worthy of being on my fantasy team this year. Tiki Barber was rated fairly well and he played for the Giants. I knew this would be the year for Eli to become great, so picking his main running back was not something I had to think long and hard about. I really knew nothing of this Tiki Barber other than he'd been a pretty good player in the past, he would be catching Eli's passes, and well, let's face it, a jock named Tiki with good stats sounds like a sure thing.
So, here I am after the fourth week of the season, down 0 & 4 against my dad's dream team of loud mouths, playboys, and ex-cons, wondering what I did wrong. Sure, I gave up a lot of great players so I could collect a few of my beloved Colts. I won last season almost singlehandedly with Peyton Manning and Marvin Harrison. But today while I was watching Tiki use words I had to look up in the dictionary, I realized something: Maybe my team is just too smart.
"A lot of people don't know this but Tiki went to college on a academic scholarship," one of the other hosts said. I am not surprised. The man was articulate, well mannered, and very intelligent, not exactly something you normally find in a star running back. I'll admit, I was impressed. Maybe I'm making a big deal out of nothing, but it's not like you turn on the TV each day to see Terrell Owens filling in for Diane Sawyer or Tom Brady interviewing the vice president.
After this debacle and looking over the damage my fantasy team has done (or not done) this year, I'm now wondering if maybe next year I should throw out the stats, the fantasy reports, and the expert inside information, and look for low college GPAs instead. If you can recite the periodic table, solve quadratic equations, or read Faulkner before he was on Oprah's booklist, you need not apply. Seriously, what's next, Jamal Lewis, Nobel Peace Prize winner?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
