Yes, it is I, your fearless (well … sometimes) Managing Editor. And no, I didn’t forget how to blog. In fact, I’ve had this nagging little voice in the back of my head for some time, which I believe to be that of our former editor, whispering something like, “Yes, Brian, we do blog more than once a month here at The Evening Sun, let alone once every four months. I used to blog every day if I remember right.”
My only excuse? Well, there’s been a lot for me to learn here at The Ivory Tower on Lackawanna Ave. (to borrow one of Jeff’s terms), and my number one priority has always been the paper itself first and foremost. That being said, your next question might very well be, “Brian, why the hell are you blogging at 4 a.m. on a Wednesday?”
That, I’m afraid, I can thank my neighbors for. Apparently, when you’re young and don’t work for a living, it’s completely acceptable to bang, smash, party, scream, yell, curse, fight and get ridiculously violent – on both Monday and Tuesday of this week, I might add – until the wee hours of the morning. I’ve had very little sleep, needless to say, and I had a nice discussion with one of Norwich’s finest on my way to the office in the pitch dark this morning (at 3:45 a.m. to be exact). Not that I think those ruffians living next door to my tiny apartment visit our website daily (evesun.com for those of you who don’t remember), let alone read, but if one would like to warn them, please let them know the next time I hear that particular brand of nonsense on a weekday, the authorities will be notified … immediately.
That being said, come Friday and/or Saturday, I could care less, as this summer my travels have taken me far and wide on the weekends, much to the dismay of the ‘30 Seconds’ crowd, who seem to think I should throw a cot in the corner, shower in the parking lot when it rains and live on Hot Pockets warmed through in our office kitchen so as to be on duty – updating all things ‘30 Seconds’ – 24 hours a day.
That’s not going to happen.
On a brighter note, I had myself one helluva Blues Fest, thanks (once again) to the efforts of the Chenango Blues Association. As always, I was impressed with the line-up (top notch), the set-up (also top notch) and the crowd. That many people crammed into that kind of space and you’d think there would be some major issues. Our local blues association, however, has things firmly in hand (and have for more than two decades now), and I had an absolute blast. Also a quick shout out to my pal Jess Novak, who accompanied me to this year’s fest. Jess, a music writer in the Syracuse area (I believe her own review of our local blues fest will appear in this week’s Syracuse New Times, which will hit shelves today), is also a talented songwriter and musician, and I was lucky enough to share the stage with her not once, not twice, but three times last weekend (with the fest sandwiched in between).
Thanks for the company, Novak, and remember: only two good things in life, “You ain’t no C. Johnson,” zombie cats, and those letters to the aforementioned (and hopefully non-zombified) felines all equal some good times, with great friends, and some serious laughter.
See you all soon … and not at 4 a.m. … I hope …