Random and incomplete thoughts

In a ridiculous amount of hours, I will post these words in Kingston, Ontario. And my journey begins with these words: “Be safe. Treat yourself with dignity. Eat well, sleep, aspire to balance. This is when our best work happens!”

Being a momma’s boy pretty much rules. The card came complete with some “pocket cash,” a massive sandwich, ketchup chips, a chocolate bar, napkins and a ridiculously large coffee. It appears that I’m all set.

I’m off to complete my internship at the Whig-Standard. This is probably one of the most random things I think I’ve ever done. Why Kingston? Good question. Journalism prof Kelly Toughill said she’s in good with the Osprey Media execs, and after perusing the company’s list of “products,” I settled on the Whig. I’ve heard some really good things about the paper, while I’ve also heard that it’s gone downhill. In what way, I’ve yet to determine, but this could get interesting.

I’ve noticed that the writing in the online version of the paper, while largely crisp and clean, isn’t exactly top notch. My hope is that I’ll be able to turn out some really good copy ON DEADLINE (hehehe), impress the higher-ups and eventually achieve my ultimate goal of making the front page.

Yes, oh loyal readers, my ambitions that manifested themselves across the first five or so pages of The Gazette’s news section last year are again going to see the light of day. I’ve seriously fallen off in the last few months, at school and at work. Sure, it’s just a campus paper, but we played an incredibly important role last year. President Tom Traves himself told me that the news section was the best he’d seen it since he’s been at the university. Indeed, at least half of the credit is due to Jessica. Her AIDS feature was one of the greatest accomplishments our paper has ever achieved... Oops. I digress.

A few posts ago, I wrote this massive list of stuff I wanted to accomplish. Sleep was a recurring theme, and it’s the only item I managed to secure. Most of the rest sort of went to the weigh-side. But I’m on my way to a new city, as crapy as I’m sure it is, to fulfill my responsibilities in my first real job. I’m starting fresh. And, god willing, if I manage to finish the pile of work I’ve conveniently saved for myself, I’ll be rip, roaring and ready to go by the time these ghetto, NON-SMOKING Via cars roll into Kingston.

But before I begin, I have to at least browse the weekend edition of The Globe. If you guys haven’t seen it, pick it up. This publication will show you why newspapers are the best mediums for journalism in existence. The edition launches a two-week-long series on the cancer problem in Canada. My step father was diagnosed with prostate cancer on Dec. 18, 2003. I will never forget that day. For those of you who don’t know the story, my step sister, Nicole Trask, found an alternative treatment centre in the Bahamas. In layman’s terms, the treatment harnesses the power of blood to fight cancerous tumors. The clinic has a long and fascinating history, and you can find my rendition of it here.

So, needless to say, the responsibility The Globe assumed in carrying out this charge is, in my eyes, incredible and inspiring. I’ll leave you with a few words from Globe Editor-in-Chief Edward Greenspon:

“[U]ltimately the point of this exercise is about getting public officials to address the unforgivable inequities and inanities in our caner care systems …

“Canada is far from the worst in the world when it comes to prevention, detection, treatment and research of cancer. But we are far from as good as we should be. We still await the national cancer strategy promised both by the former Liberal government and the current Conservative one. And Ottawa seems far less committed to medical research than it was several years ago.

“We intend over the coming weeks to challenge this system and the officials responsible for it. Shelby and thousands of others deserve more than good. They deserve our best.”