Daylight
Career opportunities
Viv’s POV
When I was walking back to the AP trailer, I felt like I was buzzing, and I mean that literally. I was so excited to see Pet—what a trip, to run into her on the first day!—and I was thrilled to have been lucky enough to have heard their cd before I got to Warped. My other niece, Francesca (Frankie) had seen to that.
I’d been hoping that my presence wasn’t an unwelcome surprise for Petula; I guess I thought she might somehow think I was there keeping an eye on her.
Okay, so I was…a little. But only because we didn’t see each other as often as I would’ve liked. In fact, I hadn’t spent much time with her since she’d graduated from Northwestern…which, it suddenly struck me, was two years ago
.
Christ, had it really been that long?
Getting the AP job was so very important to me, not just to see Pet and her band, but because it might possibly lead to a permanent gig with a magazine I very much respected. But it was a blast to see her; she was even more beautiful than I’d remembered. I was so proud of her for going her own way and taking control of her own future. Her bandmates seemed great, too, but that girl Mo looked like trouble.
She reminded me of me at that age; not necessarily a bad thing, but not so good either.
Anyway, I was so excited on my way back to the trailer that I accidentally bumped into a pretty brunette who looked vaguely familiar.
“Whoops, sorry,” I apologized. Then I realized it was Jenny Eliscu from Rolling Stone. Sweet. I’d done a freelance piece for RS within the last year, and Jenny had helped me tremendously.
“Jenny Eliscu?” I said, sticking out my hand. “I’m Viv Nordstrom, on assignment from AP. How’ve you been?”
“Viv?” she asked, peering at me closely and shaking my hand. “Oh, great! I’m good, how about you?”
“Just fine,” I answered. “Hey, I don’t know if I ever thanked you properly for all your assistance with that Green Day piece.”
“No problem,” Jenny responded. “There are so few woman journalists in this business, we gotta stick together, right?”
Ya gotta love a woman who’s so non-competitive, especially one who’s at the top of her field. And several years younger than me, to boot.
“So how’s your XMU show going?” I asked her.
“I like it,” she responded, “and it doesn’t really take up too much of my life. Plus it’s fun to get to play what you really like, instead of all that boring shit on most radio.”
“No kidding,” I agreed. “So what are you doing here? I thought Warped was kind of something they reserved for us newbies.”
Jenny rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I know. I remember. But RS wanted someone here to check out any bands that might be hot pretty soon. Have you heard any yet?”
I considered telling her about the Daylight Bathers, but I bit my tongue. “No, but I’m working on it. I’ll let you know, though. Have a great time!”
“Count on it,” she said, winking. “See ya, Viv. Have fun.”
“Count on it,” I grinned. “Gonna be a long hot summer though.”
“You know it, baby,” she smiled back. “I’m staying in hotels this tour.”
I laughed and entered the cool darkness of the AP trailer. Immediately as the door swung shut, several people put a finger to their lips to quiet me: Jason Pettigrew was on speakerphone.
“…can’t wait to see what you guys come up with this year,” he was saying. “I’m counting on everyone to bring home some amazing shit from Warped. We’re planning a 10-page photo spread and about 20 pages of text dedicated to the tour.”
Appreciative murmurs.
“And don't let anyone scoop you on the new bands! I expect daily dispatches from the front lines; we’re amping up the website and we want to have new mp3’s of performances as often as possible. Sound checks, rehearsals, whatever, they’re all fair game. If you can get people to do exclusives, so much the better.”
We all smiled uneasily at each other. “I’ll be expecting blogs as often as you can come up with them,” Jason’s voice continued. “Use your Blackberrys to email me if you have computer issues; we have people who can get you new equipment within a day or so.”
He finally paused. “Any questions?”
We all shrugged; was there a point? Jason was always specific with his instructions; only an idiot would ask questions. Even the most stupid among us knew that. Better not to ask in front of everyone else, anyway.
Jason startled us back to reality. “Well, if by your silence you mean no, then let’s wrap this for today. Do what you do, folks, and do it well. That’s all I ask.”
We all murmured our thanks, and Jason disconnected.
I nudged Bobby, one of the interns. “Did I miss anything?”
He took a long swig of beer. “Nah, not much. Mostly a pep talk. But I can’t promise there won’t be a quiz on it later. Are you all set?” He lowered his voice. “Did you find your niece?”
I quieted down too as people drifted away. “Yeah. She was practically on the doorstep when I walked out.” I checked the time on my phone. “And I just remembered, I gotta make a phone call, so I’ll see you shortly and we’ll walk around a little more.”
He nodded and left me to it.
“Hello?”
“Mary?”
“Viv, is that you?”
I rolled my eyes; my sister never believed I’d call her when I said I would. “Yes, it’s me. How’s things at home?”
“Fine,” Mary said impatiently. “How’s Petula? Have you seen her yet?”
“I ran into her within five minutes,” I sighed. “She looks great, none the worse for the trip down here.”
Mary exhaled. “Thank goodness, they made it,” she said in relief. “Will you be seeing her much, do you think?”
I’d already explained what I was doing at Warped—working—but God knew Mary didn’t give a damn about that.
“Mary, for the last time,” I reminded her, “this is my job: working for the magazine. I am not Pet’s babysitter, nor do I intend to be. She’s a big girl now, in case you didn’t notice.”
“But you’ll let me know if there are any problems, right?” my sister fretted. “I worry about her so much…”
I spoke more softly, kinder. “Hon, she’ll be okay. She made it through four years of college in a major city, she’s smart and she loves what she’s doing. But yes,” I continued over Mary’s protests, “I will let you know if there are issues. But I can’t imagine there would be any. Please, don’t worry so damn much. Every year, bands survive this tour and live to tell the tale. Some even go on to greatness.”
I could hear her twisting her mouth in disapproval.
“Yes, whatever, Viv,” she snapped. Pet’s career choice was still a sore spot.
I heard some noises in the background: the younger kids returning from the park or the local pool. I realized it was dinnertime.
“I better go, Viv,” Mary said resignedly. “Have a good time.”
“Don’t I always?” I asked cheekily, but she’d already hung up.
MY career choice was still an issue too, apparently. Ah well, fuck it.
I snapped my phone shut and went to find Bobby.
When I was walking back to the AP trailer, I felt like I was buzzing, and I mean that literally. I was so excited to see Pet—what a trip, to run into her on the first day!—and I was thrilled to have been lucky enough to have heard their cd before I got to Warped. My other niece, Francesca (Frankie) had seen to that.
I’d been hoping that my presence wasn’t an unwelcome surprise for Petula; I guess I thought she might somehow think I was there keeping an eye on her.
Okay, so I was…a little. But only because we didn’t see each other as often as I would’ve liked. In fact, I hadn’t spent much time with her since she’d graduated from Northwestern…which, it suddenly struck me, was two years ago
.
Christ, had it really been that long?
Getting the AP job was so very important to me, not just to see Pet and her band, but because it might possibly lead to a permanent gig with a magazine I very much respected. But it was a blast to see her; she was even more beautiful than I’d remembered. I was so proud of her for going her own way and taking control of her own future. Her bandmates seemed great, too, but that girl Mo looked like trouble.
She reminded me of me at that age; not necessarily a bad thing, but not so good either.
Anyway, I was so excited on my way back to the trailer that I accidentally bumped into a pretty brunette who looked vaguely familiar.
“Whoops, sorry,” I apologized. Then I realized it was Jenny Eliscu from Rolling Stone. Sweet. I’d done a freelance piece for RS within the last year, and Jenny had helped me tremendously.
“Jenny Eliscu?” I said, sticking out my hand. “I’m Viv Nordstrom, on assignment from AP. How’ve you been?”
“Viv?” she asked, peering at me closely and shaking my hand. “Oh, great! I’m good, how about you?”
“Just fine,” I answered. “Hey, I don’t know if I ever thanked you properly for all your assistance with that Green Day piece.”
“No problem,” Jenny responded. “There are so few woman journalists in this business, we gotta stick together, right?”
Ya gotta love a woman who’s so non-competitive, especially one who’s at the top of her field. And several years younger than me, to boot.
“So how’s your XMU show going?” I asked her.
“I like it,” she responded, “and it doesn’t really take up too much of my life. Plus it’s fun to get to play what you really like, instead of all that boring shit on most radio.”
“No kidding,” I agreed. “So what are you doing here? I thought Warped was kind of something they reserved for us newbies.”
Jenny rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I know. I remember. But RS wanted someone here to check out any bands that might be hot pretty soon. Have you heard any yet?”
I considered telling her about the Daylight Bathers, but I bit my tongue. “No, but I’m working on it. I’ll let you know, though. Have a great time!”
“Count on it,” she said, winking. “See ya, Viv. Have fun.”
“Count on it,” I grinned. “Gonna be a long hot summer though.”
“You know it, baby,” she smiled back. “I’m staying in hotels this tour.”
I laughed and entered the cool darkness of the AP trailer. Immediately as the door swung shut, several people put a finger to their lips to quiet me: Jason Pettigrew was on speakerphone.
“…can’t wait to see what you guys come up with this year,” he was saying. “I’m counting on everyone to bring home some amazing shit from Warped. We’re planning a 10-page photo spread and about 20 pages of text dedicated to the tour.”
Appreciative murmurs.
“And don't let anyone scoop you on the new bands! I expect daily dispatches from the front lines; we’re amping up the website and we want to have new mp3’s of performances as often as possible. Sound checks, rehearsals, whatever, they’re all fair game. If you can get people to do exclusives, so much the better.”
We all smiled uneasily at each other. “I’ll be expecting blogs as often as you can come up with them,” Jason’s voice continued. “Use your Blackberrys to email me if you have computer issues; we have people who can get you new equipment within a day or so.”
He finally paused. “Any questions?”
We all shrugged; was there a point? Jason was always specific with his instructions; only an idiot would ask questions. Even the most stupid among us knew that. Better not to ask in front of everyone else, anyway.
Jason startled us back to reality. “Well, if by your silence you mean no, then let’s wrap this for today. Do what you do, folks, and do it well. That’s all I ask.”
We all murmured our thanks, and Jason disconnected.
I nudged Bobby, one of the interns. “Did I miss anything?”
He took a long swig of beer. “Nah, not much. Mostly a pep talk. But I can’t promise there won’t be a quiz on it later. Are you all set?” He lowered his voice. “Did you find your niece?”
I quieted down too as people drifted away. “Yeah. She was practically on the doorstep when I walked out.” I checked the time on my phone. “And I just remembered, I gotta make a phone call, so I’ll see you shortly and we’ll walk around a little more.”
He nodded and left me to it.
“Hello?”
“Mary?”
“Viv, is that you?”
I rolled my eyes; my sister never believed I’d call her when I said I would. “Yes, it’s me. How’s things at home?”
“Fine,” Mary said impatiently. “How’s Petula? Have you seen her yet?”
“I ran into her within five minutes,” I sighed. “She looks great, none the worse for the trip down here.”
Mary exhaled. “Thank goodness, they made it,” she said in relief. “Will you be seeing her much, do you think?”
I’d already explained what I was doing at Warped—working—but God knew Mary didn’t give a damn about that.
“Mary, for the last time,” I reminded her, “this is my job: working for the magazine. I am not Pet’s babysitter, nor do I intend to be. She’s a big girl now, in case you didn’t notice.”
“But you’ll let me know if there are any problems, right?” my sister fretted. “I worry about her so much…”
I spoke more softly, kinder. “Hon, she’ll be okay. She made it through four years of college in a major city, she’s smart and she loves what she’s doing. But yes,” I continued over Mary’s protests, “I will let you know if there are issues. But I can’t imagine there would be any. Please, don’t worry so damn much. Every year, bands survive this tour and live to tell the tale. Some even go on to greatness.”
I could hear her twisting her mouth in disapproval.
“Yes, whatever, Viv,” she snapped. Pet’s career choice was still a sore spot.
I heard some noises in the background: the younger kids returning from the park or the local pool. I realized it was dinnertime.
“I better go, Viv,” Mary said resignedly. “Have a good time.”
“Don’t I always?” I asked cheekily, but she’d already hung up.
MY career choice was still an issue too, apparently. Ah well, fuck it.
I snapped my phone shut and went to find Bobby.
♠ ♠ ♠
Hope you like!