WobblyReport

Finding an outlet willing to publish my latest piece was a challenge and I'm grateful to Gina at DistillSocial for agreeing to run it. Numerous outlets (ProPublica, for example) expressed concerns that I was misrepresenting myself somehow even though I assured them that I fully intended to do the best work I could in the role for which I was applying. Here's an excerpt: In an online application submitted in late January, I’d truthfully submitted my five most recent employers, three of which are media companies, and other basic background information. Less than a week later I received messages inviting me to call in for prescreening. I called the number provided January 28 in the early afternoon. The GEO Group representative, who speaks with a slight accent from some other continent, asked what qualified me for the position and I leveraged clerical support work for a hospital system, which involved handling and examining many sensitive documents. I mentioned a few other relevant...

I will be gone — but not forever   A brief stint as an editor at an under-resourced community newspaper backwater has come to an end and a new journey as a mercenary, dissident journalist and underground musician has begun.  No regrets.

Live musical performances are a very special variety of social gathering. People come together around beats and melodies, participating as players, dancers, spectators and listeners. These events can be a great exhalation, a release of massive, pent-up energies deriving from the experiences of all those present. Having attended many musical performance events in a wide variety of roles—including but not limited to light and sound technician, performer, dancer, listener and reveller—when they involve a lot of fun-loving people and competent show-running, they are far and away my favorite social environment. Other types of gatherings seldom match the intensity of sensory stimulation alone. But that’s only a surface-level difference. Beneath high decibels and flashing lights and before crowds assemble, mingling heat and breath, people prepared a venue while others waited and talked in lines outside, some casual and others almost visibly vibrating in anticipation. Before that, artists p...

The snow packed down by snowshoes was the last to melt and fade into the yellow-gray lawn north of the house we rent. Deep pockets of snow are likely yet found 50 miles (80 kilometers) or so northwest, where the National Weather Service station near Gaylord recorded snowfall this year exceeding any other on the books. The season of renewal is premature at this latitude and everyone is looking around with justified suspicion. Not to say they fail to appreciate a day of sunshine and relative warmth. But there pervades a sense that discussing it too much or directly will jinx it. Tempting fate I cut my hair close. It is one of several ritual acts to ready myself. Waking slightly earlier; stretching more often; consuming more water and calories. A busy season is approaching but it’s not here yet—perhaps time’s left to prepare.  A robin has been running around the yard in front of the aforementioned house, having returned from wherever robins winter. The American Robin should remain ...

Holiday tunes emerged and bloomed in our part of the world, this year as ev’ry in collective mem’ry. Festive music is as unifying and dividing as any ritual practice. In our own lives we might find ourselves on one or the other side of mirthful-musical enjoyment or annoyance, at any sung given time.  O holy night, so few opportunities to start a sentence thusly. Last Christmas was probably it for most. I don’t want a lot for Christmas except to let it snow, let it snow.  Would referring to a list be cheating? Yes, better to draw these from the surrounding air and to dive deep into reminiscences. It was a Sunday this year when the first bars of Mariah Carey’s seminal classic drifted through our household. A neighbor girl sang them through our daughter’s toy karaoke machine.  Last Christmas, I heard the Wham! song enough. The very next day, I heard it again. This year, what do I hear? A Jimmy Eat World cover from 2001 I had no idea existed despite having bought their long...