To say goodbye is to die a little.
-Raymond Chandler, "The Long Goodbye"
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I recently got representation as a writer. This means that I now have to "work" and "generate new ideas" as opposed to sitting around on my ass, dreaming about putting things down on paper. I celebrated my signing by dropping a good chunk of change in the "Young Professional Douchebag" (YUPDIE) section of Urban Outfitters. I bought plenty of flannel, a book about how to make 100 different sorts of martinis, and a turntable so I can invite people back to my loft and listen to old Bryan Ferry records.
And on Friday, I said goodbye to my unpaid internship.
It was sad. I felt like I should commemorate it with Cheers' "We're Closed" final line, or saying Goodnight Moon to every room that I had spent time in. "Goodnight copier. Goodnight movie projector. Goodnight beleaguered assistant to egomaniacal director."
But the thought occurred to me: these ideas have been played out. They aren't original. I'm using someone else's poetry to express how I feel.
This company meant a great deal to me. A terrific work environment that fostered creativity and loyalty. I need to express my appreciation in my own words. I know that in the past I have used quotes to demonstrate how I feel (See: the top of this post). But this is different. This letter came from the heart and is pure, unadulterated me.
The only words that aren't mine are classified names and companies, since I don't want to ruffle any feathers.
So without further Apu...
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February 25, 2011
When I joined REDACTED, it was the fulfillment of all my boyish hopes and dreams. The world has turned over many times since, and the hopes and dreams have long since vanished. But I still remember the refrain of one of the ballads of that day which proclaimed that old interns never die; they just fade away. And I now close my career and just fade away, an old intern who tried to do his duty as God gave him the light to see that duty.
I’m not going to sit here like other interns and say that I won’t miss it. Because I will. I’m sure that on Sundays I’ll say, “I could be doing that.” Sure, I would have liked to have won more games, would have liked to have gone to a Super Bowl this year, would have liked to have thrown less interceptions, more touchdowns. But as I look back on my career, I have no regrets.
I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched REDACTED get hired, fired, and rehired in one day. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain.
All I ask of you, especially young people, is one thing. Please don't be cynical. I hate cynicism. It's my least favorite quality and it doesn't lead anywhere. Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get. But if you work really hard and you're kind, amazing things will happen.
But that’s the thing about unpaid internships. They're totally irrational and crazy and absurd. But I guess we keep going through it because most of us need the eggs.
I’ve got a job to do. Where I’m going, you can’t follow. What I’ve got to do, you can’t be any part of. I’m no good at being noble, but it doesn’t take much to see that the problems of one intern don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Someday you’ll understand that. So here’s looking at you, kid.
Today I consider myself the luckiest intern on the face of the earth. I might have had a tough break, but I have an awful lot to live for. I was not the intern you deserved, but the intern you needed. A silent guardian, a watchful protector. A dark knight.
But as I leave you, I want you to know that you won’t have Max Davison to kick around anymore. Strike me down and I shall become more powerful than you could possibly imagine. Because nothing ever ends, Adrian. So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past. After all, tomorrow is another day.
Before I go, I just want to tell you that you were fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. And know what? So was I.
See you in another life, brother.
Max G. Davison
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