(as written for the Loomis Chaffee alumni newsletter)
Yours truly wasted about a year during 2002-2003 as a graduate student at the University of Pennsylvania. And then something happened that he doesn’t remember, and he woke up one morning and was a magazine editor in Washington, DC. He wasn’t sure that he knew how to be a magazine editor, but who does their first time? And what is “to know,” anyway, and how can one “know” a position, and what do you know, eh, and what if our eyes deceive us and we’re disembodied brains in mason jars or something, etc.
It was during this period of doubt and confusion that our protagonist ran into Leah Belsky ‘98 at the neighborhood gym, despite that it was not her neighborhood. The two met that weekend for tea at the neighborhood tea house (again, his neighborhood), and she discussed various medical research that he found incomprehensible. Parting, they promised to this again, sometime soon, which they so far have not, like four months later.
Though he would not admit this to anyone, our hero found the magazine editor thing to be a lot easier than he thought it would be. Time consuming? Sure. Difficult? Not at all. Though the magazine had already began to prosper under his tenure, he missed what his work had taken away from him. His own writing had suffered and he had had to cut like way back on drinking and philandering and all that.
Plus, the magazine thing hadn’t improved his Google-juice one bit because its website was bad, and without Google, forget about it, you know?
And but so, after a rough week of accusations, recriminations, and editorial meetings, he was unexpectedly appointed Senior Writer at a swanky Washington think tank, where he expects to remain ensconsed for some time, like a year at least it’s that swanky. During the day now he pens lengthy Jeremiads on the dangers of federal spending and screeds faulting the poor, disabled, and indigent for their oh-so-tacky plights.
And his nights? Let’s just say the drinking and philandering are going very well, thankyouverymuch.
One Comment
Google-juice? Is that like pimp juice?
Funny :D