From the Editors V.30 N.5

by Patrick McMenamin

published March 6, 2015

The Indy wants to be your friend. Quickly, double-check your email, fold your laundry, and update a few items on your Linkedin profile because from here on out, the Indy’s going to take you out and let you know it’s okay. Open up the color spread in an empty bathtub and lay into it for a warm hug, letting the water slowly fill and flip you upwards, Indy-branded candle and book close at hand. Isn’t it so nice to come home to flower petals strewn across your mattress on the floor?

Love may not guarantee a future, but the Indy does (ask us about print media). I even heard that copies of the Indy have been converted into small sailboats, sending lover’s messages across the oceans, Southern New England’s largest weekly slowly filling out into the corners of the globe, its news arriving like dial-up internet, the harmonized promise of a better tomorrow.

Lately, it feels like all your friends are trying really hard to fall in love and it even seems to be working. You keep entering their living rooms to find copies of the Indy strewn all over the place, leading trails to the bedroom and that’s how you know. Maybe you’re not so sure what to make of all this yet.

Nowadays it often feels overwhelming to even sit in your room. You’re spending a lot of time talking to people on the phone, pacing back and forth and laying your head on piles of accumulated library books.

But take a minute to walk down the street, nod at someone passing and maybe tear off a piece of the rolled Indy secretly held close-to-heart under your jacket, handing it to them—a business card, a poem of your crisis.