While drinking $2.50 High Lifes at Jack’s in Nashville Saturday night, I received a text from Teagan: “I DIDN’T EVEN GET TO SAY GOODBYE!”
She was damn near crying while waiting for her stuffed cheesy bread at University of Delaware’s Deer Park bar over the loss of our generation’s trusty baedeker, the colossal black hole of our time, TikTok.
“HAHAHA,” I replied. “(Evil laugh.)”
But TikTok fiends need not fret much.
“We are fortunate” the app told her at the time, “that President Trump has indicated that he will work with us on a solution to reinstate TikTok once he takes office.”
So fortunate.
…
I needed some rest later in the night, so I sat down at a table on the quietest floor of the seven-story Wallens bar, where a male and female country duet sang a song and then asked the small, mostly empty room where we were from and what we wanted to hear.
I asked him to play “Pink Skies.” I’m no country music listener, but I’ve always liked that song.
“What are you, going through a break-up or something?” the saw-picking man asked me. “That song is always a vibe killer.”
For some reason, I said I was — with a guy.
“With God?” He had already judged my party of three for not having fraternities at Notre Dame.
“With a guy!” Even though I’ve never dated a man before.
The two others in my party stood up to leave, so we walked out. I thought it was embarrassing, maybe a little funny, but my friends assured me that no one there would remember who we were.
…
Liam Linnen wore his Notre Dame varsity jacket to the bars, and we really felt a ton of love all night with countless “Go Irish!” cheers in our direction, except for one salty Georgia fan and a cocky Ohio State fan.
Of course, we gave both those guys proper and deserved Jersey birds.
At Friends, when we saw some friends, we obnoxiously erupted into a “Let’s go Irish!” chant once the dreamy mustached fiddler concluded his song. The other patrons were visibly upset. We didn’t care. We were too drunk and pumped up to care.
If I were a betting man, my money would not be on Notre Dame for Monday night. But I'm not a betting man. I’m a fan and a student, so instead it is a lifetime of my pride on the line.
…
As we begin Trump’s second term, I’m reminded of something a friend told me after getting a stent removed from his kidney: “Don’t ever let a woman tell you that it ‘won’t hurt that bad when they take something metal out of your d***.’”
The raids may begin next week. I don’t think your for you page will show you that violence.
…
I’m about ready to throw my phone in the ocean. In the past couple of months, I’ve deleted Tiktok, Instagram, Youtube, Reddit and X. LinkedIn (which news editor Liam Kelly pointed out has a scrolling feature) may be next.
But who knows. Maybe this is doomed to be just another failed written commitment. I’ve already eaten the fruit Steve the serpent first tempted me with.
We’re a generation of scrollers. The disorienting, discomforting fragmentation of modernist literature has not left our world, but we now use our 15-second-or-less series of images to cope, comfort and pass the hours of our fallen world. The only expense is our lives.
It looks like TikTok will return to us shortly, “thanks” to our incoming president. I'm a revivalist: we used to bond over the books we shared. But now we only bond over apps where you share everything except your hyper-algorithmic “feed” which is, of course, for you and only you. Even if TikTok were never to return, replacements would be bound to arise in no time and certainly already exist. Let’s not fool ourselves, though, about how fortunate that is.
…
I wanted to write something lighthearted and funny today. I wanted to make you laugh again. I wanted to carry the triumphant spirit of our football team onto this page. I’m sorry that I couldn’t.
