Inspiration from the depths...

I tend to not be a fan of personal nostalgia, but my phone's text inbox is someplace where that fails. Usually, it's only particularly cute things Moe says or particularly hilarious and context-lacking things that Austin sends that I keep around, but on April 5th, at 1:47 am, Billy texted me "F-ing great to see you sir."

That made me happy.

On a random whim, or not so random, as I've been annoyingly calculatory lately, frequently in needless directions, I investigated the bloggerspots tonight. I caught up on Egan's infrequent but brilliant awareness and Billy's incessant postings.

Actually, I went to check on Austin's shit, got distracted by Egan's brilliance and Billy's goddam energy. I'll look Austin's posts later, after the whiskey (Catholic, not protestant).

But inspired by Billy's recent Fugazi-love for the last record, I went down the goddam rabbit-hole of personal nostalgia.

I went back to the Volante, which roughly a year ago, the senior staff (including one Michelle Rydell, editor-in-chief at the time, but a pup when I was at the paper) recycled an old story of mine.

I drove drunkenly through the counrtyside, visiting all the fantastic country bars that neighborhood has to offer. The new story hit (approximately) four of the six bars I hit, plus one that wasn't open while I was there.

I made a wiseass comment.

Then things got weird.

My comment was gone the next day.

The day after, my entire backlog of stories was gone.

Hey, I don't go there anymore and was never exectly a positive influence when I was there, but in all forms of retrospect I was pissed.

I stopped paying attention when I saw what was, to me, a blatant, "uh, server upgrade, sorry for the inconvenience" tag.

My affront felt deep.

Well, it's all back up now.

Afer reading Billy talking about the first half of The Argument, I felt like looking up my review of it.

It was there, along with more stuff than I remember writing, although it doesn't carry back to my inaugural Verve writings, curated by then-Verve editor John Hult, who I owe my fascination with journalism and Austin's job in it to.

All the same, the story that Rydell and Woltman (apparently, it took a sidekick) recycled is still not in the database. Oh well. I wrote it for a summer freshman issue.

I'd view it entirely differently if someone that knew me wrote it. Story recycling happens, especially at the college level, but...

But as I was one of those opinion/Verve geeks, alas.

After reading what I used to do, I need to step it up. Right now, I'm all about Jameson and Camel.

Who has a Twin City-connection that needs a pro-bono-for now writer?

Hook a cracker(kraken) up?


So yeah, at 3:00 in the morning and on a whisky kick, I might exaggerate things a bit to stir the pot and see what happens. Sometimes, I'll even act like a story written about bars that you might not know about near a sometimes-boring college town is the most original creation ever, and that anyone who writes anything remotely similar two or three years later in the same sometimes-boring college town is clearly guilty of intellectual property theft.

Additionally, inferring (and in turn implying to you, dear reader) that any subsequent wise-ass comment from yours truly had inspired any sort of managerial retaliation is more likely the result of aforementioned 3:00 A.M. whiskyness than any realistic conspiracy of named parties.

It should be stressed that this infrequently and irresponsibly maintained blog is for (my) ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. Use for all other purposes is expressly forbidden.


William said...

Oh you bastard. Energy? Energy? Why not call me the Mickey Spillane of blogging and get it over with god-dammit! Also, the V has turned into a Greek factory the last time I checked. Rough City. Blog more. I sit for such a long part of the day that I have actually checked your shit twice-a-day for months waiting for the next guy.

j. said...

Sheesh. Why Spillane? I figgered you for more of a Dash Hammett (or Rendar, as I can't believe you made a Dark Forces joke) kinda guy.

Sans Coast said...

Egan has brilliance. Billy has energy. I have "shit."

Where's a sturdy door frame when you need it?