I COULDN'T BELIEVE my college administrators would do something so irresponsible, so poorly thought out, and, above all so dangerous. They were actually giving me a degree in journalism. Were these people crazy? I mean, yes, liberal education is one thing, but from all the years spent on the proverbial decadence highway,there is one thing you learn and you learn fast: You do not give a weapon to a man who, by many people's standards, is a daft prick.
But they did and chaos ensued, which was expected, as usual.
Graduation from college itself is lost to me forever in the annals of the John Belushi, Animal House, history book. What didn't we do?
But mum's the word, as the saying goes in Vegas, since I am actually a working professional now.
I got a gig at Nadig Newspapers.
Holy shit, people were actually paying me now. To show up on time, sure, but that was always a jagged pill that I was willing to swallow when faced with entering the real world. But this other shit they expect from me, you know, accuracy, is ridiculous. Who on Earth would ask a gonzo journalism fan to let go of things such as the miraculous hyperbole, the love of the extended metaphor and above all, the affinity for detail and of course coarse language?
Nadig, ya dig.
But deep at heart I knew that these people meant business. Many a times over my editor would come over to my desk telling me that I did not not give a shit and that that had to change. Maybe he was establishing that age old hierarchy of power? "You do and you do right" or else.
But at this point I didn't want to know what "or else" meant so naturally I followed suit. Yes, I tried to learn from my mistakes and did the job accurately. Or at least I tried to. Hey nobody said experience is easily attainable.
It was a strange predicament. I wanted to give a shit. After all, after many years spent in Davy Jones' locker, I now wanted to truly "give a shit."
But Nadig is a different type of a beast. It is an old school whore, that, by any modern standard, understands that money is what is driving this world, and that the paper must be put to bed no matter what the cost is and whose feelings are hurt in the process.
So fuck me and horse I rode in on.
So I guess it is like Thompson once said. Fuck it. Do it now.
And now, three weeks into the job, I am still doing it now.
Nadig is a newspaper that respects old values and above all, old journalism. The type of journalism that only "gives a shit" about the facts and nothing else.
And attention to detail.
So I still have a lot to learn. But if there is any good aspect to be seen here, then it is this. There is no better way to learn old school journalism than from an old school cranky editor who doesn't give a shit about anything else, except getting the paper done on time, and doing it accurately and righteously.
I guess all true and serious editors are like that. I just never knew that before. Hey, I used to be a slave to college media, for Christ's sake. And even though I loved every minute of college, and I know that the Chronicle has showed me the ropes and I am Chronicle for life, you still need places like Nadig in the real word to live, to live in the spirit of, well, honest and responsible journalism. After all, that's why all the serious journalists are here for.
Time to grow up, kid.
