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Saying goodbye to The Observer

Analise Lipari | Monday, March 2, 2009

Dear Observer:

After almost four years of writing, editing, planning and stressing, I think we’re going our separate ways. I hate to say it, but it’s not you – it’s me.

So why would I do such a thing?

Well, this is my last week as your Scene Editor, and I’m afraid that our time together is up.

I mean, hey – I’ll still write, I’ll still call, and I’ll probably still work a few shifts to pick up a paycheck, but our relationship is just going to have to change.

You can’t expect me to write quite as much as I used to write, especially on those Sunday nights when I hadn’t planned any articles and your center pages were left blank and lonely, waiting for content.

You also can’t keep me from going to mass in my dorm anymore, courtesy of that pesky Sunday night shift that I’ll do my darnedest not to work. (Hurrah!)

Try not to cry. I know it’ll be tough on you, because we’ve been together for a long time now. I’ve seen the ups and downs of arts and entertainment, both in and around Notre Dame, Saint Mary’s and beyond. (Heck, I even wrote a column once from London. That’s, like, a lot of miles.) I’ve written reviews, columns, and everything in between. I’ve seen artists ranging from the Soweto Gospel Choir to the students of PEMCo, and it’s been a privilege to share it all on these two center pages.

But you know, I’d be lying if I said our parting wasn’t a little weird. I think it’s safe to say that you took up a significant chunk of my time here as an undergrad, and you don’t just walk away from that kind of commitment.

Also, even though I know my humble section takes up way less space than your other departments, you always gave us color pages, 3 days a week.


Plus, I know you’ll haunt me for years, encouraging me to look up your Web site long after I’ve graduated.

And I know as soon as I visit campus again, I’ll head straight to one of your news boxes and pick up a spare copy, feeling reminiscent.

One day, my grandchildren may ask me about my crazy life as a college student, and I’ll tell them about all the fun times we had back in the office, slaving over Quark or using unlicensed photos in my spreads.

But in all seriousness, we’ve had a really good run. When I look back on my time at The Observer, I’ll remember the people I’ve met and the work I’ve done. You gave me some amazing opportunities, and invaluable experience. You made me a better, more succinct writer, and you gave me something pretty darn cool to do with my time.

Still, it’s time to move up and move out. I’m graduating in May, and my time as an editor with you is officially over by Saturday. Even if I’m neither completely happy nor totally ready to leave, sometimes you’ve got to move on.

You know, Cole Porter once wrote a song called “Every Time We Say Goodbye.” Artists from Nina Simone to Robby Williams have crooned the same lines, regretting that they’ll be parted from their significant other of choice.

“Every time we say goodbye, I die a little / Every time we say goodbye, I wonder why a little.”

Well, Observer, thankfully our goodbye won’t be anywhere near that intense. But to tell you the truth, I’m really starting to feel it.

Thanks for the memories, Observer. I’ll see you around.