Day 3:At least I will die free

Tonight I drank a PBR in a building in which both David Lauderdale and Arthur Ochs Sulzberger used to work: The Raleigh Times. There's nothing like the mighty carcass of a defunct newspaper building full of yellowing old memories of print days gone by to make one feel ever the more wistful for the sad reality that is the fate of newspaper journalism. Plus, it was turned into a bar, in either an act of humble homage or incredible prescience. The PBR was even at the accurate price range for the despondent journalist: $2 a glass.

Even the N and O is noticeably fading away lately, so said Ginny, with a sad sigh. And Raleigh has always deserved -- and typically had -- a strong paper, as the Times building reminds you with its old issues lining the walls, their headlines blaring for attention over the din of the bar and the fans watching the Hurricanes game.

I can only hope the future bears similar paths for other newspaper buildings should (or when) they become empty, giving at least a fitting use to the remaining ink stains and ghosts of the printed word.

Then I went across town and played "Wave of Mutilation" on a plastic drum set hooked up to a TV for two hours. I even managed to be not terrible at it.

That's front-page news, in my world.


11/20 UPDATE AND CORRECTION: via David Lauderdale--

Arthur and I both worked for The Raleigh Times, but not in that building. The late and lamented PM paper (“Evening Hours Are Reading Hours”; “Today’s News Today”) was on the second floor of the N&O building on McDowell Street when we worked there. (Arthur and I were not there at the same time; he was before me.)

Inverted Soapbox regrets the error.