Starting tomorrow, I’m resuming what I hope will become a long, storied journalism career in Charlottesville. Additionally, I’m going to continue congratulating myself on working for one company for the past five years. Starting next year, I can say I’ve spent half my career working at the same company.
This isn’t another entry on how that newsroom felt like family and I missed them and this feels like going home and I regret leaving in the first place but it’s good that I experienced what I experienced in Richmond. I’ve already done too many of those. You get it.
This one is about music.
Starting with leaving the Petersburg paper, I’ve had a playlist to accompany job changes. It happened by accident — the following song was in my head at the time when I was talking to the Hopewell publisher, and it seemed to go with the moment.
I’ve shared this playlist before in various iterations, but I’ve never said anything about the song selections. I’ll do that over the next 24 days.
Yes, 24. It’s not that I’ve had that many jobs over the past 11 years. This is because of the format of the list. Each time, there is a job hunt song, an accepting the job song, a farewell to my old job song and the mood-setter for my new position.
The first track is a little different. I knew on the spot that I had the job, but it was pending whenever my predecessor left. He definitely was leaving but when it was happening was up in the air. It ended up taking about three months.
Another thing that made this different is that the first song is two songs. On the album, Wall of Sound, the intro, which is simply titled “Interlude,” and the final song were two tracks I count it as one piece, and so does the person who posted this to YouTube.
The intro did it for me.
I was about to defect Petersburg and run the newsroom of one of its competitors. In retrospect, that was kinda rude. But they didn’t have a noncompete clause and I was going to have the opportunity to go from being a reporter to being in charge. And those thousands of other duties .
But I felt like I could do it. No. I knew I could do it. I was going to be a 25-year-old managing editor. At the time, I arguably was the youngest managing editor in the state. I was excited. I was determined. I had a general idea of how to run a newspaper. I also had no idea what I was doing.
But, damn it, I was going to do it.
I was what the TWH remix of Lunar’s “The Unknown” evokes. I was heading into the unknown, and I wanted it.
Next: The first of entirely too many Death Cab for Cutie songs on this list.