In honor of old friends

tuawtalking

First you freak the fuck out and then you realize it’s OK.

Then you freak out.

You’re sitting at your desk with your ergonomic keyboard and your Futurama action figures and that green tea you paid too much for because it had Japanese characters on the package and that means it’s VALID green tea, and then the bottom drops out. It’s like when you’re at dinner with your parents, your spouse and your kids, and your more-than-middle-aged dad announces, in between bites of Chicken Kiev, that the hemorrhoid cream he bought is JUST NOT WORKING.

In my case, “hemorrhoid cream” is my job and “JUST NOT WORKING” is I don’t have it anymore.

Remember when I stopped writing for 52T so I could concentrate on TUAW? LOL!

After a decade with TUAW, the fun has come to an end. Our parent company is shuttering the site as part of an internal reorganization. I’ll miss lots of things about my job — like it being a job that provides a paycheck — including the people.

My team at TUAW, present and past, consisted of true pros. I’m talking about people who are crazy smart, dedicated and fun. I’ll miss the frenzy of covering live Apple press events (we were a freaking MACHINE on those days), big events like Macworld Expo, riding the “the 1337 cab” around San Francisco (Doc, Brett and Kelly G. will remember that one), as well as the day-to-day posting, editing and shooting the shit in IRC. OLD SCHOOL BABY. A huge thank-you to all of you.

Thanks especially to Steve Sande (even though he never let me wear the Indiana Jones hat), Mike Rose (who put up with my horrific grammar and spelling for YEARS, and taught me how to write) and Vic Agreda, who made me a full-time employee. I’ve been with you three the longest. You poor bastards. Thanks to C.K. Sample III who hired me in the first place, and Scott McNulty whose editorial red pen has made me a better writer. Never start sentence with “so”!

This is the second time in six years that I’ve lost a job due to the decision of a parent company. That’s like winning the lottery in hell. The FREAKING OUT will continue, mostly because my bank refuses to accept tears and/or groveling as payment on my mortgage. But I’ll figure it out.

Oh, and I’ll be writing here again. Only now I drink the cheap-ass tea.

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