Whitney's Buzzword

That’s it, the end / But you’ll get over it, my friend

Eleven thousand tweets. at least six or seven lockdowns, four years, maybe somewhere around three real “news” stories, one or two drive-bys, one bomb threat and an escaped parolee later, here we are.

I never thought this day would come — at certain points throughout these four years I dreaded it, and at certain points it could not come fast enough — but now that it’s hear, I definitely hate that I have to write this post.

Regardless of whether or not anyone wants to admit it, we’ve all got at least a bit of ambivalence around the fact we’re leaving the relatively sheltered world we’ve lived in for the past thirteen — fourteen or fifteen if your parents bought into the First Five preschool stuff like mine did — years for the real world. (In Visalia, that means unlimited drive-bys and parolees. All day. Every day.)

That’s enough of all that, though. A hastily-written, abandoned-weeks-ago graduation speech will probably be left to another post.

I want to take this space to thank everyone who’s ever helped me with this website, with Mt. Whitney’s still-fledgling newspaper, or really with anything.

• Mrs. Clarke, Mt. Whitney Journalism’s fearless leader and generally fierce, flawless English teacher.

  For dealing with me for four long, arduous years. And saving me from numerous times where every member of the Administration would have probably beat me to a bloody pulp and blamed it on the police or angry staff members at the Times-Delta.

• The Administration, especially Mr. Hohne and Mr. Perez.

  For dealing with me for four long, arduous years. For not beating me to a bloody pulp and blaming it on the police or angry Times-Delta staff members. For fully supporting every single streaming event we’ve ever pulled off, from the first Cowhide to the most recent baseball games. For having enough restraint to not simply demand I take this website down, a quality I have heard administrators at other schools sorely lack.

• Every single person I’ve pissed off these past four years, probably including the above people.

  For not killing me. I’ve managed to make about one or two mistakes, some absolutely stupid and unacceptable, every school year. If I haven’t apologized enough to anyone who felt slighted by these mistakes or any others, let this count as another one. 

• Every single Twitter follower.

  For following me on Twitter even though, with rare exceptions, most of my tweets are either simply personal ramblings or random streams of consciousness regarding school events like Mr. Pioneer or any rally.

• The lovely people in ASB, Yearbook, and the Times-Delta.

  You guys know I don’t hate any of you, right? None of you. Not even you, even though you know what you did, and it was really bad.In all seriousness, everyone needs a target once in a while and you guys served those roles. So, thank you for handling it amazingly well. I blame Sasha for passing on her relative dislike of Yearbook, though.

• Every single person who’s watched any of our live events.

  For watching any of our live events. I have spent both money and time to make live sports at Whitney possible, and while this general expression may be used far too often, I do mean it when I say that it was worth it if one single person enjoyed watching any of the events I’ve broadcasted over the last four years.

• Every single person who’s read anything on this site.

  You guys should be at the top of this list, but then again, hindsight is 20/20 isn’t it?Thank you. I don’t publish anything on this site for my own health; indeed, my heath would be much better served if I swore off writing forever.

That’s it. This — and perhaps that graduation speech I never tried out with — will be the last post you’ll ever see at Whitney’s Buzzword. You can read posts from previous school years’ runs of Whitney’s Buzzword by clicking the “Past Years” link up above.

There will probably be a post in a few months when Visalia Buzzword pops up, but other than that, it’s been great.

It really, really has.