My Bloody Sunday

This weekend I was faced with the most testing decision in my ever-so-young magazine career. The choice dangled out plainly in front of me: Free tickets to see The Flaming Lips perform at Victoria Park as part of the Love Box Music Festival, or spend Sunday evening in the office assisting my editor proof the magazine (which is planned to go to print Monday afternoon). I was stuck.

Friday before I left the office, my editor politely asked if I would mind coming in to help look over the copy with an extra set of eyes, to make sure everything was perfect before we went to print Monday afternoon. I was thrilled to be included in such an important part of the process. Although copy editing (the English also call it “subbing”) is probably the least glamorous, most tedious part of magazine publishing, we all know the importance of well-written, flawless copy. I mean, sure, a magazine can have a fabulous actress on the cover, and eight pages of Dolce and Gabbana ads; but if “mumbai” isn’t capitalized somewhere on the directory, or a comma appears instead of a period in a feature, some avid reading, mag-obsessed perfectionist somewhere is going to catch it. And when they do, they’ll be slightly frustrated, and really a bit baffled that a staff that can pull eight pages of D&G can miss the capitalization of the world’s most populated city.

Of course I would come in! I didn’t have plans for Sunday. And, there really was something about being the final set of eyes to check the magazine before it was sent to the printer, and eventually read by thousands. I enthusiastically told my editor that I was available.

Later that night, the owner of the bar where I work informed me that a friend of his was running the promo for this festival, and had managed to get the bartenders on the guest list. The Go Team, Goldfrapp, and several other bands would be there throughout the day, and The Flaming Lips would take the main stage for the event’s finale.
In case you’ve been living on Mars and never heard of/ listened to The Flaming Lips, or ever YouTubed their live performances—they are a.m.a.z.i.n.g. And I, a former record-store clerk (until the pitiful end of the music retail industry), proudly own every album they’ve made. Ever.

I spent Friday night pondering how I could make it work. My editor told me plainly that he would need me from 6 p.m. onward. And, though the festival started at 12 p.m. The Flaming Lips weren’t playing until 8:15. Victoria Park was on the other end of the city, at least an hour and a half round-trip for transportation. There was no way I could have both. It was a cruel, cruel choice to make. But I had to choose.

I ended up having a blast on Sunday evening. The music that blared out of the speakers was unbelievable.

The speakers of the office iMac, that is. I spent my evening in the office reading, and re-reading magazine proofs, while listening to “Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots”. And in the end, I was completely satisfied with my choice. The Copy Editor missed the capitalization of “Mumbai”.

--Ed’s Intern #4

**PS...
The Flaming Lips, in case you read this, I’m open to press passes to your next show. And, the mag is off to print, so I’ll be available! xx