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The Monday Morning Memo

 

There were two options: work midnights, or be Public Information officer. I had already done midnights a lot in my life, so I said, “I’ll take that second choice.” So one of the jobs of the public Information officer is to handle the Facebook page. I talked to our Chief, Mark Hathaway, and I said, “I wouldn’t read this.”

And he said, “Well, yeah, do what you want. I don’t know anything about it.”

And I said, “Well, neither do I.” And that’s true to this day. I don’t. I really don’t. And that’s not a joke. It’s funny, but it’s not a joke. And so I said, “I’m just going to write some longer posts, use few pictures, and I might get a lot of TLDRs (Too Long, Didn’t Read) and we’ll see what happens.” And it took off. And I was told the whole time that I was doing it wrong. – Lt. Tim Cotton

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Random Quote:

“Where is Danny? Lonely as smoke on a clear, cold night, he drifts through Monterey in the evening. To the post-office he goes, to the station, to the pool rooms on Alvarado Street, to the wharf where the black water mourns among the piles. What is it, Danny? What makes you feel this way? Danny didn’t know. There was an ache in his heart like the farewell to a dear woman; there was vague sorrow in him like the despair of autumn. He walked past the restaurants he used to smell with interest, and no appetite was aroused in him. He walked by Madam Zuca’s great establishment, and exchanged no obscene jests with the girls in the windows. Back to the wharf he went. He looked over the rail into the deep, deep water. Do you know, Danny, how the wine of your life is pouring into the fruit jars of the gods? Do you see the procession of your days in the oily waters among the piles? He remained motionless, staring down.”

- From Chapter XVI of Tortilla Flat, by John Steinbeck (1935)

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