The end of the semester is a time for reflection on our triumphs and on our lost opportunities. I came into this job as enthusiastic as a puppy. I ran full-speed toward every goal I thought was reasonable. Since this job has so many unknowns it is basically akin to trying to navigate in a messy room with the lights off, I pretty much fell over every possible piece of furniture and knocked all the delicate stuff on the floor. At least, it feels that way. Some of my days have left me feeling chewed up and spat out this semester. I’m worried I’m going to fail one of my classes. I’m bone-tired, in a way that I have never been before. I know I’m looking forward to some down time. It’s been a long time since I puttered around my room in my pajamas, watched some TV and, god forbid, done some reading for pleasure. I also plan to play a few rounds of Halo 2, which has been a guilty pleasure, like chocolate-covered almonds or more accurately, a housewife’s prescription-pill addiction. I’ve procrastinated. We all do it.
I can see the same weariness in my staff’s eyes and I’m glad they’ve stood behind me through a hectic semester. Especially, I’m glad my scatterbrained approach to management hasn’t spurred everyone to a general mutiny. Next semester, I’ll be a lot more organized! I mean it!
To wit: as much as I’m going to be playing video games and everyone else is going to be doing the things they do when they don’t have to be here, the winter break represents an opportunity to refine our approach to the paper and even to look at stories in a little more detail than we have time to during production. My question to you: are there any burning issues on- (or off-) campus that are going unreported? I know people have a tendency to bitch and especially to bitch about their media. Put your money where your mouth is and send tips to us via our website: look to the left, under “features” and click “letters to the editor.” This woefully underused resource allows you to fill out a form online that goes directly to our mailbox. You don’t need to throw your back out opening your email program and making sure you’ve typed in the email address correctly. This is one way to get a letter to the editor in the paper, but you have to include contact info so we can verify your identity.
With the space remaining, I’d like to let you in on one of the tragedies of the last part of this semester. One of our most talented illustrators, Charlie Ashlin has repeatedly put out great work for us, only to find that the story he was illustrating fell through one way or another. That’s how we ended up making an editorial cartoon out of his excellent portrayal of a sinister doctor injecting chicken soup into a sickly patient (Nov. 1, page 18). Accompanying a story, it would have been one of the best illustrations, basically, ever. Fortunately, it stood on its own, so we put it in the perspectives page.
The doctor’s resemblance to some kind of malevolent Dr. Mengala type and the patient’s relative rough, peasant-like appearance set the pace for all of his unsettling, shadowy work. Not all of his illustrations work without the accompaniment of a story, so I’m printing them here, in my personal space, as a gift to Charlie and to you. He deserves the exposure and you get to see what you’re missing out on.