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Savoring Savannah Forrest Gump once remarked that "Life is a like a box of chocolates." He made that statement here. In Savannah, Georgia. (For a few bucks, you can see the bench from the movie in a local museum.) Not knowing what to expect before visiting Savannah, I was expecting a country- fried banana republic. Surprisingly, the only Banana Republic here is owned by the GAP. Savannah is amazingly sophisticated and beautiful. It is one of the few places in North America that makes Europe look trashy. The old town, which is approximately 1 square mile, hasn't changed a bit in the past 250 years. Some parts have cobblestone streets made from the ballast of old ships. Small parks are scattered throughout the town's grid. They provide open space like Tuscan piazzas. There are also many fountains, not unlike Aix-en- Provence. The residential neighborhoods are full of ornate wrought-iron fences and balconies like Wiesbaden. Some of the Victorian architecture reminds me of Sydney. My hostel is a trip--an old house showing its age. Since I forgot my Hostelling International card, the manager said he decided not charge me extra--since there isn't any heat. The first night was cryogenic. The bunk beds have plastic sheets. The men's bathroom is being repaired, so half of the time, I have to use the women's bathroom. As an added bonus, the manager offered me a stray cat he lets sleep in the doorstep. (He's allergic to him.) I declined, not knowing how I'd get the cat home on the plane. Furthermore, the cat is slightly wild and likes to scratch. I came to Savannah to attend the Society of News Design annual convention, where I fraternized with visual communicators staying at hotels with reputations to defend. The company name on my registration badge was "Jag Söker Jobb." To some, it plausibly sounds like a high end design firm. In Swedish, it literally means, "I am looking for a job." There were probably half a dozen people at the convention who caught the joke, including the current SND president, who's from Sundsvall, Sweden. Today when I was passing through the women's dorm to take a shower, a girl's copy of Dagens Nyheter caught my eye. Ironically, I had stayed out to 3am last night with four of the paper's art directors. One of them I had met back in January, when I toured the paper's newsroom in Stockholm. Yesterday, the man who redesigned the Sydney Morning Herald and some of Australia's plastic money bought me lunch. I was a bit stoked when I found out that, YES, he does run internships. At the convention, I scouted a few ways to blend my experiences in computer science and visual journalism. I made contacts with a newspaper company that develops production software in addition to owning various papers nationwide including the 30-minutes-from-my-house Holland Sentinel. I also found out about an exciting post-graduate summer boot camp at the Poynter Institute that combines new and traditional media. In all, I'll be heading back to Michigan on Tuesday with some new ideas creatively and professionally. I apologize to all those to whom I've been an e-mail deadbeat lately. I wish Microsoft made a clairvoyant version of Outlook that would psychically draft e-mails when I'm thinking about my friends and wondering how they're doing. a bientôt, P.S. In continuing the tradition of the Canadians being everywhere I am lately, I met several newspaper people from Montréal... including one who's an avid Simpson's fan. As I walked around Savannah, Nelson's words echoed in my head, "This never would have happened if we went to Macon, GA." |
