Something something Minneapolis something music something something.
The first letter was heartbreaking and all-too-relatable. Polly's advice is spot-on. I hope things get better soon, Can't Stop.
Your mom is right.
This was beautiful; thank you.
@Sister Administrator Seventy-ten
@Danzig! It's still there.
This was a poignant thing to read. It reminded me a little of my days at a small-town newspaper in the late 90s in my hometown—which happens to be Grinnell, IA, home of Hayes' alma mater. At that point we still used film cameras and laid out issues by hand, so most of my shifts were spent in the darkroom or in front of the wax-glue machine we used to assemble layouts.
My boss and mentor there also died a few years ago, but he was a genius. Also a chain-smoker. Also an alum of Grinnell College.
When I was nine I was rooting around in my parents' bedroom closet a few weeks before Christmas, looking for my presents, and I found the complete Voltron (this was in 1985), and my mom caught me in the act and told me she was going to return all my presents to the store, and I was distraught, but when Christmas came I still got all my presents, including the Voltron, and I was the happiest boy in the world.
My students who talk shit about my class on Twitter apparently don't think they're on the Internet.
This is wonderful. I look forward to reading this book with equal parts excitement and dread. I still miss him so much.
Speaking of taking care of ourselves online, surely by now someone's created a service that strips all the racist comments out from city newspapers' websites (i.e. all the comments). If not, I will contribute mightily to that Kickstarter campaign.