Washington Post writer, annotated
After Barack Obama’s historic election to the presidency — which prompted some people to crowd into newspaper offices in search of keepsake copies of the edition announcing the news — Washington Post writer Paul Farhi crafted a tongue-in-cheek memo to souvenir hunters. It’s reprinted here in full (with, of course, sotto voce comment):
To: You
From: Your newspaperDear You:
Every day, I was there for You, rain or shine, good times and bad. I was always available. Like a puppy, all I ever wanted was to please You.
Newspaper, I’m already skeeved out. Always available? Please me like a puppy? The only thing I ever wanted from you was tough-nosed reporting that challenged the powerful but didn’t coddle us ordinary citizens. That’s problem No. 1: You worried more about pleasing me than doing basic reporting. You wanted to be liked more than you wanted to be indispensable.
Was it lively conversation You wanted? Cackling opinions? The latest news and gossip? I gave You all that. I even tried to keep up on all the sports and business stuff because I knew you cared about that, too.
Actually, the list of things you never got around to telling me is discouragingly long. We readers didn’t move on because you were too comprehensive and fair-minded. We did so because you became sloppy, incomplete and prone to partisan leanings. (Your writing has suffered, too; surely you meant “crackling opinions.” That sort of goof leaves your detractors cackling with glee.)
Oh, we had so many beautiful years together. Sometimes I made you mad. Often, I moved you. But we always made up.
Oh, stop it. This was always a financial transaction, pure and simple. I sent you money and you presented yourself at my doorstep every morning. The minute I stopped sending you checks, you were gone.
And then a few years ago you rewarded my loyalty by straying. You went elsewhere. You sought the company of others who, you thought, gave you something that I could not. Fickle and faithless, you went looking for something faster, newer and younger.
Oh, You.
I wondered, incessantly, had I failed you? Was it me?
Yes, you failed me. Yes, it was you. Next question.
And then one day this week, You wanted me again. Hungrily. Desperately. You searched everywhere for me. You lined up outside my door, stood in the rain and cold, on the chance that I would be available to You again.
I’m happy you felt desirable again, and I wouldn’t bring this up otherwise, but the number of people clamoring for extra copies of their local newspaper on the day you announced Barack Obama’s historic win probably wasn’t even a fraction of one percent of the U.S. population. That’s hardly a groundswell of affection.
And I wasn’t there. How ironic!
What’s ironic is that your managers couldn’t figure out in advance that having some extra copies to sell on that noteworthy occasion would put some coin in the coffers. God knows you need it.
Finally, You recognized something in me again. Something that had been dormant all these years. That You needed me.
That You needed to hold me again. If only for one special day.
Geez, you keep inviting me to rain on your parade. We didn’t want to hold you again. We wanted to put that copy of the paper in a drawer for our kids to throw away after we die.
I feel so…. used.
I should be aghast at your behavior. I should cast you aside forever and move on, somehow. But I know in my heart what I have always known:
That I need you, too. Every day. And I want you back. Desperately. Hungrily.
I have to tell you, newspaper, this clingy neediness isn’t attractive.
So won’t you use me again?
Please?
OK, we need to get Dr. Phil in here. You’re making Bill O’Reilly look like a model of emotional stability.
November 10th, 2008 at 12:08 pm
A couple points in no order of importance - hell, who am I kidding - none of ‘em are important.
* The “cackle or crackle” error is SPELLCHECK’s fault. We users blindly rely on a flawed product. The geeks at MicroSoft need to figure a way to include context in their editing logic.
* You don’t really respect the advice of Dr. Phil do you? That’s freaking dissappointing. It’s not like you need to live up to my unrealistic expectations, but holy cripes, I feel like you’re standing naked before me - damn, this is one of those times I wish you were a chick. And cover yourself, will ya. One hand oughta do the trick.
* And not to kiss your butt - seeing it is bad enough (please refer to previous comment) - you ain’t an ordinary citizen Gearino. You have your own animated cartoon image sitting atop your website - which is another distinction.
Like you don’t exploit both - hell, your favorite way to pick up women is to access your site from your laptop while sittin’ at a conspicuous table at Starbucks. As you casually nurse your latte, young (and legal - barely) babes flock around your table - imagine that?.
“Me, why yes, that is me. I’m Dan Gearino, published author and sensitive lover. Did I mention I have an Amex platinum card?”
If this sounds like jealousy Gearino - then I’m coming through loud and clear.
November 10th, 2008 at 12:09 pm
“…..with, of course, sotto voce comment.”
Sotto voce?
The comments are quite bold.
LIS!
It was quite funny that newspapers didn’t think ahead to have extra copies.
Perhaps this was by design so they could come back later with posters, mugs, and other money-making memorabilia as some have now.
November 10th, 2008 at 12:18 pm
As a sidebar, why has the time of day not been adjusted from daylight savings to the fall-backward mode on this blog?
Hmmm?
November 10th, 2008 at 12:36 pm
Good commentary Dan.
I would also like to point out that if writers, editors, etc. at newspapers spent as much time doing their jobs as they do coming up with these ‘joke’ memos (and, according to my inside source, headlines, stories, etc.) just maybe their paper wouldn’t be hurting for readers.
November 10th, 2008 at 12:48 pm
This one from Maureen Dowd about the election is amusing.
And so true.
It’s especially hilarious the way Maureen chronicles the clueless and patronizing white people as they pant for a chance to seem “hip” while coming off as anything but.
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/11/09/opinion/09dowd.html?_r=2&ref=opinion&oref=slogin&oref=slogin
The day after was indeed full of emotion simmering just below the surface of every conversation.
I stopped by a market on Wednesday and was chatting with one of the cashiers as I always do.
He had been a Hillary supporter originally.
During the course of discussing the election results with this man, who is black, I started to tear up when talking about how gracious McCain’s concession speech had been and how steady and profound Obama’s victory speech had been.
When I got back into the car and looked in the rearview mirror, I had mascara streaming down my cheeks.
LIS!
The same thing happened an hour later as I was waiting in the lobby of the doctor’s office for a yearly check-up.
Sitting alongside me in the waiting room were a red-haired, Irish-looking man and a very elegant elderly black woman.
We began exchanging courtesies about the weather, etc…..the way people do when they’re bored….until it was discovered that both the man and the elderly woman lived in the gated community of the Governor’s Club.
That was a grand segue into a discussion of John Edwards’ mistress who had lived in a leased home there while carrying the Baby Daddy’s child.
What a conversation between them!
Later, when the man had moved on, this lady and I talked about staying up late to watch the election results and what a long campaign it had been.
We both wound up with tears in our eyes.
Ideology aside, this election was one for the ages, but sentimental urges will soon be replaced by the cold hard challenges ahead.
November 10th, 2008 at 1:46 pm
Funny how Maureen Dowd could only scarf up encounters with black folks in traditionally subservient positons to we blue-eyed devils.
This (Dowd’s columnn) is the kind of liberal, self indulgent hogwash that makes a honkey like me want to puke.
Maureen’s world abounds with cute black mailmen (shouldn’t that be captial-Black, Maureen, how un-PC of you), bartenders, waitresses and UPS drivers. What Maureen, you didn’t encounter any hoochies or homies? Boy, you must live in a nice neighborhood.
Bless Maureen Dowd’s clueless, liberal, white a–.
All this meaningful dailogue between the races is so exciting isn’t it? Here’s the dilemma though. What will she talk to negros about once The Election is yesterdays’ news?
I expect with Maureen and her ilk, it’ll be the same as before: slow service, weak drinks and taking umbrage to an indifferent attitude. Don’t force her call the manager, y’all.
November 10th, 2008 at 2:07 pm
Wow, John.
If you can’t stand Maureen’s column, then you’ll simply despise this one from Kathleen Parker:
http://www.jewishworldreview.com/kathleen/parker110709.php3
When I read it I felt a bit sorry for Parker for being “motherless”.
She went about during the campaign dissing and making fun of Sarah Palin, but here she’s all weepy with mint julep embroidery over the appliqué of archaic movie theatre rules.
Hey, all we need now is for Allan Gurganus to make an appearance….breathlessly giving details on the young, hard bodies of male Abercrombie and Fitch models with his Tobacco Road drawl.
He usually shows up during such times to give an antebellum flavor to the proceedings if there’s an audience for it—the way he flamed during the Duke Lacrosse Hoax.
(Ok, “Mr. Cranky”, that’s another Six Degrees From Kevin Bacon example for you!) LOL!!!
As I’ve said before, I’m not a Palin supporter, but am nauseated by the way other women like Parker have treated her in their columns.
BTW, I have seen Parker on some of the mush-mouth Chris Matthews’ Sunday talk shows and she’s certainly no Einstein.
November 10th, 2008 at 2:39 pm
PUHLEEEEEESE! Maybe when Debrah gets through sobbing and reapplying she’ll relay the conversation between the red haired “Irish looking” man and the “very elegant elderly black woman.” I want to hear about how the Irishman cried too! You know how emotional they are.
November 10th, 2008 at 2:50 pm
Debrah,
I guess we’re making today’s blog our personal chat room. I know that chaps the behinds of some. My apology.
Yep, Ms Parker’s contribution is more of the same. Nothing really wrong with it or Dowd’s besides the “back to me” mentality of their awakened “black” consciences. Seems a persecption more than a bit naive that Obama’s election dawns a new day of racial harmony. Maybe it just assuages the guilt of some who insist on feeling guilty.
A lot of your posts send me straight to Wikipedia for a rFench-to-English translation or some other form of edification. Being as how I’ve never heard of the guy, you almost got me with the Allan Gurganus reference. But for better or worse, I make it a personal policy never to read anything authored by a guy with “anus” anywhere in his name.
It’s served me well so far. Maybe Allan’s the exception, but I doubt it.
November 10th, 2008 at 2:51 pm
mikey, only when we drink.
November 10th, 2008 at 2:59 pm
Sorry, Mikey.
The Irishman didn’t stay long enough for tears.
Most of his conversation consisted of juicy details about Baby Daddy John Edwards:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2AE847UXu3Q
He said that a colleague of his was married to a woman who used to date Edwards in high school.
And that they were still friends with him but had never voted for him because they didn’t trust him.
LOL!!!
The only tear-up came between the elderly lady and me.
But I’m sure if the Irishman had still been around he would have cried too!
November 10th, 2008 at 3:03 pm
John–
That last one of yours is hilarious!
GOL!!!