Do I miss news?
Well, I miss my coworkers. But the rest of it? I feel like I managed to survive a nautical disaster. I miss news like the passengers miss the Costa Concordia.
The beginning of the vacation was amazing. You try not to think about the fact that you’re dumping thousands of pounds of sewage every day and the person in charge seems to only care about their own glory, you’re on a boat, motherf***ers, a BOAT!
All your friends are in some campground somewhere. Look around! Is this awesome? Hells yeah!
Then, the thing starts to sink. Damn. You wonder if maybe you should have just gone to Disneyland. You had the money for Disneyland. It looked fun.
Surely someone will fix this, right? Like, they’re going to right this ship, right? No, it looks like the solution is to just throw a bunch of shit overboard. Are you serious?!? We’re capsizing, you morons! Who is in charge here? The water used to be thousands of leagues deep and now it’s a goddamn kiddie pool! Whose idea was it to try to steer a cruise ship into a kiddie pool and just hope for the best? Oh, the guy who likes his fat paycheque. Got it.
My take on diminishing ad revenues: whose idea was it to try to steer a cruise ship into a kiddie pool and just hope for the best?
And now people are jumping ship. Well, that’s all well and good for them, but it’s dark out there. And cold. And a long flippin’ way to the water before you can even start to swim. Can I even swim? It feels like forever since I’ve done anything but stand on the deck of this ship and wave at all those people in the water. Those lesser fools, who aren’t enjoying the luxury of being the biggest on the water.
But now we’re really listing. I mean SHIT, things are going sideways. Like, every minute we’re walking around at damn angle and that’s how we’re trying to get things done now. That is the new normal. Everything is harder at an angle. The people in charge are treating us like cattle now, shouting garbled directions, saying we’ll be fine, everything is fine, but what the hell do the people in charge know? They’re just following orders, too. They have families, too.
What the hell do the people in charge know? They’re just following orders, too. They have families, too.
Nah, man. I’m out of here. I loved this vacation, but I am out of here. And I feel like an idiot. I should have known better than to put my faith in a wasteful behemoth that is a blight on the ecosystem. Time to jump ship and swim.
So do I miss it? Yes. Absolutely. I had an opportunity that few have, that I was so blessed to have, that was so much fun and has given me more incredible memories than I can possibly count. But no one has those opportunities now, because they no longer exist. When I look at the wreckage of what’s left, I’m so, so sad and so grateful to be paddling a wee life boat, no matter the weather.
***Author’s Note: 32 people died in the real Costa Concordia disaster of 2012, off the shore of Isola di Giglio, Italy. I was working in news at the time, and I remember writing about the disaster. I felt, and feel immense sadness for the families of those who lost loved ones in the wreck. My probably-belaboured metaphor here is an analogy, nothing more. I certainly don’t intend to imply that the steaming wreckage that is the news industry is in any way as tragic as true loss of life, such as those families experienced. As a former news reporter, I likely have much to atone for when it comes to offending families who have lost someone. It’s never my intention to worsen someone’s loss by making light of it.**