Last day

A very weird day today, my last at my current employers. As is traditional on Fridays we did a Top 10, although for dating reasons it’s going to be published at the end of the month.

I don’t leave jobs often, and the last day is always awkward. Actually, my last couple have been very drunken affairs with very little work done, but as I’m the boss over here I have to set an example. Plus Friday is the busiest day of the week – those Top 10 lists don’t write themselves.

The Top 10s started as a bit of fun nearly three years ago, and were inspired by a night at the pub and bad film scripting. We were looking for some non-news content to write and had been discussing ideas. We decamped to a pub to discuss things further and left the matter unresolved, although my colleague did mention that a Top 10 could be fun.

That night I got home to find the house empty of both housemates and food, so ordered in a Hunan beef delivery and settled down to see what was on the TV. Very little as it turned out – it’s remarkable how anyone can produce 300 channels of unrelenting garbage. It’s not just a US thing, digital TV has bought the same delights to British shores.

There’s a fundamental limit to the amount of good programs out there in my opinion. There are only a few Dennis Potters in the world and much of the content of channels is either repeats or really duff stuff. But remote controls are built for this, and you can cycle easily through channels until you find something bearable.

That night it was Jurassic Park, which I caught half way through. It’s scary to think that at the time Jurassic Park was 16 years old. I went to see that on a date when it first came out and if I’d have got lucky (unlikely considering my choice of romantic film) and been careless the offspring could vote by now. Such glimpses of other lives are depressingly common these days.

As I munched through hot beef and rice the film got to my favourite line, the infamous UNIX quote. Synapses fired and the concept of a Top 10 worst technology snafus in film came to mind. The next day we did the first of what became a Friday ritual, and possibly the most popular stories on the site. They’ve grown from about 1,500 words to over 6,000 on occasion, and our arguments have drawn attention during the traditional pre-list meeting at Morty’s.

Now it’s over. M’s gone clubbing and I’m left with a bottle of good wine, Justin Currie playing in the background and an editing task to get done. It’s a bit different from this stage of the night at my last leaving do – back then I was staggering around Soho with a whiskey in hand, trying desperately not to make a final fling at a colleague. I suspect tonight is an improvement.