I also was informed that he had been offered a job in Monroe, Louisiana.
Some of you know about my eternal connection to Monroe (if not, click here), but I think Margaret Cho offers even more words of wisdom that would serve Casey well to observe, on what happens when you’re at the height of some nasty alcoholism and get booed off the stage by rowdy college students in Monroe:
“I, oddly enough, did not seem to find it humiliating at the moment. It was devastating, but I wasn’t embarrassed. They never even gave me a chance. There was nothing I could do, except piss them off by doing all of my time and not leaving until it was over.”
It’s an odd little town. Small enough that it only takes about five minutes to blow through the whole town going 50mph on the main route through, but big enough to have about three exits on the highway, a Kinko’s, and several competing cheap, sleazy motels.
I personally couldn’t have stood it more than the 16 hours or so that I was there, but I am such a city slicker it’s not even funny. I get away from art-house cinema and I feel active withdrawl symptoms.
It’s a nice city, though it is in Louisiana, so you must keep an eye out for the Mosquitoes the Size of Small Dogs that are pervasive in that state. I dunno. But if I were Casey, I’d take the job. Hell, I would take the job, if I had any journalistic qualifications whatsoever.
But alas, I must duke it out here in Chicago, trying to find some sort of A/V post-production job that pays me enough money to let me keep my car yet leaves me enough free time to be able to use it.
Ah, the eternal balance…