how theyre all fine?
thats nice.
seriously, because... you know... it doesnt always work out that hot.
...
ok look.
technically i signed a non-disclosure agreement but i figure if anyones still visiting this blog they deserve an honest explanation of where ive been for the past 10+ months.
but its a long story, so youll have to bear with me:
So over the winter break, I got an amazing opportunity to do an internship with my personal hero: the Jebediah Langford.
For those of you who don’t know, Langford used to be one of the big dogs in West Virginian coal mining.
Back in the day he could have mined the tops off of the Mountains of Madness, and Cthulhu would have been all like:
“WTF Langford, my madness mountains... wait seriously, coal for that cheap?! That’s amazing, those prices are in-sane!”
The Great Old Ones are suckers for a good deal.
Of course, that all came to an end when two union reps were found brutally bludgeoned to death in his breakfast nook.
He was never convicted of anything but he sort of gracefully bowed out of the mining game after that.
Mining’s loss turned out to be public television and radio’s gain, because Langford started doing shows about the mining industry. I remember when I was a kid, curling up with some hot coco and listening to Langford’s soothing voice telling stories and weighing in on issues of the day. I’ve put up a clip of one of his classic bits, I hope it can give some indication of the guy’s magic.
Anyway, I was working crew on his TV show, doing odd jobs, and one day Langford pulled me aside and asked me what I was doing with my life and what my plans were.
Then he dropped the bombshell:
For the past few years he’d been running a mining operation off the books. It wasn’t union (classic Langford) but it paid super well because the conditions were so dangerous.
So I was like: “Jack pot!”
See, my parents were under the impression that, after four years, I was about to graduate from MNU. Which would have been hard... because I was still undeclared.
I had sat down with an adviser and they told me that the degree plan I was closest to completing was a BA in Brazilian-Asian Women’s Studies.
And I would still have 7/8ths of the program to complete.
Anyway, this was a golden opportunity for me to ditch that train wreck, so I dropped out of school and signed up with Langford’s crew.
I had been working about a week when the cave in happened.
It was about another week before we realized that no one was going to come looking for us.
Fortunately my study abroad program in Romania had prepared me for just such an occasion. You know, it’s true what they say: those special programs really do give you a head start in the real world.
I was able to use my experience handling these high stress situations to help set up a little underground mini-society. We had our own laws, economy, and customs, similar but distinct from the above ground American society.
I also knew about how long that would last: a week.
By the time it collapsed I was way ahead of everyone else in stockpiling weapons for the resulting anarchy.
Well, I’ll admit, the society might have lasted a little longer if I hadn’t smashed all the lights and then screamed: “I hope you’ve all said your prayers, because in the next four seconds I’m going to kill every single one of you.”
But if ifs and buts were candy and nuts we’d all have a Merry Christmas.
And there weren’t going to be any Merry Christmases down there.
Besides, the wouldn’t even let me be mayor.
I was stuck being “town barber/gossip.”
Then, about three months later, Langford actually sends some people to dig us out.
It was actually just smart business: the cave in had caused a lot of news people to nose around, and, since the operation wasn’t strictly ‘legal,’ Langford had to deny there had been any mining.
What was he supposed to do? Haul out a bunch of miners that didn’t exist?
No, instead he paid off the miners’ families and decided to wait until we were all dead to excavate the lost equipment to make back some of his investment (classic Langford).
When they did reach us, I was the only one left.
I’d been surviving on....
food.
Anyway, according to the team that found me, I was “more beast than man” at that point.
Did you see The Descent?
I was basically one of the cave gremlins from that.
Langford was super cool about it. I mean, if this was the 80s he probably would have just had me killed.
I mean, my family had already been told I was dead and they had their hush-hush money.
But I guess the intervening years have made Langford a big old softy, because he hired a team of anthropologists and told them I was a wild man from Borneo. He then had them reteach me English and basic social etiquette.
Did you see My Fair Lady?
Imagine if Eliza Dolittle was one of those cave gremlins from The Descent.
That was basically me.
So you’re probably thinking: “Man, that Langford’s a stand up guy.”
It gets better.
So Langford has me over to his estate for a lobster dinner. Now I’m still convinced that, any second, some guy in a pig mask is going to pop out and start strangling me with piano wire while Langford films the whole thing.
You know, to sell it later (classic Langford).
But what does he do instead?
He says, “Frank, what’s something you like?”
So I’m like, “Watching movies.”
Boom!
Langford pulls out a Film Degree from MNU.
He graduated me.
I don’t have to tell you, it meant a lot more coming from a guy like Langford than the president of some stupid college.
Then he’s all like, “How’d you like to leave the state?”
Boom!
Lanford pulls out some GRE scores.
He GRE’d me.
And apparently I did really well.
So I guess I’ll be going to grad school, which is pretty cool.
I mean don’t get me wrong, it sucks that I probably won’t be doing any more coal mining, but as one of Langford’s psychologists pointed out to me even being in a slightly dark room could re-trigger my animal instincts.
Come to think of it that might make watching movies difficult...
Oh well, I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it!
Now technically I shouldn’t be writing about all this stuff, but I cleared it with Langford.
He said no one reads my blog anyway.
Which kind of hurt.
But that’s cool, because I can basically deal with anything at this point.
I just want you guys to know I was always thinking about you!
In fact, my first spoken words were, “Has anyone been maintaining my blog?”
As it turned out, my family had used some of my death money to hire a guy to archive what I’ve written in the past, so hopefully he’ll be all caught up with me before too long.
And the best part about this whole thing?
I’m back in time for Spooktacular... 13?
That sounds good enough.
originally posted: Thursday, October 21, 2010 (getting close)
No comments:
Post a Comment