As I Type It: Memo

A year ago, when the staff at Howdyland.com began documenting the horror of inconvenience that has come to be known as The Great Re-Depression, we fully believed the whole thing would have blown over by now. The arc of this bold venture had been fully plotted, and most of us blithely assumed that by the middle of 2011 our fledgling media concern would have been profitably absorbed by the wily and voracious Arianna Huffington and we would be the sleek new people scanning the room at every major gala in search of someone more important than you.

But we founded this place in Wisconsin.

We relocated our families, ex wives, trophy wives, kids and trophy kids to Madison, where the schools are good, the parks are gorgeous, and the municipality provides firefighters to extinguish the parks when they erupt in flames. What more could a growing media empire want?

In all candor, we wanted Ms. Huffington’s money and influence. We had assumed that our dedication and expertise would soon give us access to her close-knit circle of 456,286 intimate friends, but little did we know how little did we know, and now we are stuck, mired in a state run by large company disguised as an idiot.

Soon, as we look on in despair from the drafty third floor window of our rapidly delaminating office, we may bear witness to the departure of the country’s finest teachers, the world’s bravest snow plow drivers, firefighters who truly hate fire, nurses, and even the gentleman who polishes the badger atop Lady Forward’s head.

Everything that makes Wisconsin the envy of Huffpost bloggers forced to hack away in the back alleys of Montecito and Westchester will be gone. Everything except Howdyland.com and The News From The Great Re-Depression. We will stay behind and start wearing sensible shoes, shoes to carry us forward through darker times still to come.

But we will be very pissed off about it.