Growing Up

Okay okay, so I haven't written anything on here and its been over a week since I've been in The District. I'm going to blame it on the heat. All I will say about the weather is that I have always underappreciated the glory of AC. I now live for that blast of artificial ice that hits you like you're strapped to the tracks in front of the Coors Light train from the commercials.

We went down to this event they call "Screen on the Green." They show classic movies on Monday nights down on the National Mall and there's like a thousand people there with picnics. We saw On the Waterfront last week sitting in the shadow of the Washington Monument and the Capitol, right where presidents get inaugurated. Everybody started cheering when Brando told us he could have been somebody, instead of a bum, which is what he is. He's just trying to love, but, poor guy, he's been given a fighter's body.

Yesterday we came back for Rebel Without a Cause and the whole time there were these silent flashes of lightning to the north and we all just kept watching the movie which was about halfway done until... it just starts Pouring with a capital P. Some people started yelling (with encouragement from the Rebel Himself: "You're tearing me apart!") but then we all started laughing and crowding back into the Metro, one big soaking wet mess like a dog whose owner just threw a tennis ball into the ocean.

On this trip's journalism front, which is less of a front and more of a song that I can't get out of my head, we've been writing articles about a fake news story in class. Our teacher has this whole murder-espionage-and-headlines-in-DC narrative planned out and we're supposed to cover it like we write for the Post. It's like you're a little kid who dresses up in a hat and boots because you want to be a cowboy when you grow up. But we also don't stop talking about the death of journalism and how no one can make money at this game anymore. I'm starting to feel like my dreams are just as realistic as that kid, who pulls his hand out of his pocket in the shape of an L and runs around the house going "bang, bang."

Our teacher brought in two guys who play the DC Journalism game's online version: blogging for these guys. One of them talked about graduating college and going off to work for a small-time paper like the Winston-Salem Journal, getting experience on the streets, and writing and writing until you move up the chain, etc. You just don't do that anymore, he said. Now, if you've got a good voice and people on the internet want to hear it, the other guy said, your stuff just rises to the top.

I guess I'm on the fast track then. I mean you're reading this page, right? Awesome. Closer and closer to making a full living wage of theoretical internet dollars.

Meanwhile, I've been spending plenty of real money on the Metro and groceries. Like an adult. Excuse me while I go make my dinner, which looks just like this.