I started getting The Sun about 6 months ago, most likely to make myself feel like I was around an interesting lot while in the safe confines of my cozy home, away from the rebel flags, W stickers, and church ladies that make up this southern enclave.
And it worked.
I love this magazine. Readers write, writers write, and it is all compellingly honest and straight forward and thought provoking and human. There are no ads. Sy Safransky, a New Yorker and journalist who now lives in Chapel Hill, NC, is the editor. In the back of his magazine, he provides Sy Safransky’s Notebook, which is actually quite like a blog, but started way before blogging. I’ll say it. Sy Safransky is and continues to be visionary. And brave. From his notebook:
When I was a newspaper reporter in the 1960’s, I frequently wrote about race and poverty. I interviewed scholars. I spent time in poor black neighborhoods talking with teachers and social workers and advocates for welfare rights. But I wasn’t black, and I wasn’t poor…So what can someone like me really know about being black and poor in America – about the way racism crushes a man like a monstrous wave, and poverty, like a razor wind, strips him to the bone?
Sy sold The Sun’s first copies for a quarter, peddling them on the streets of Chapel Hill. I am a sucker for that underdog scrappiness and all or nothing entrepreneurial spirit. And I definitely need to incorporate more of that into my own gamebook. With the scrappiness fully covered, all I need now are the cajones I seemed to have lost somewhere between Colorado and Chicago, in the breadth of my twenties.
Mark Buban says
As for the following quote, “all I need now are the cajones I seemed to have lost somewhere between Colorado and Chicago, in the breadth of my twenties.” Maybe you’re just waiting for them to drop…again. Sort of like born-again balls! Glad you find some common ground with The Sun. Sometimes it’s good to know there are others out there, comforting even. Be good.
MO says
A Savannah friend introduced me to The Sun several months ago. I share your enthusiasm for the publication. I’ve lived here for nearly 6 years and only in the past year have I met so many kindred spirits. The overwhelming number of W and rebel flag stickers had me convinced I was a lone swimmer in shark infested waters. Now I realize those stickers do not necessarily represent the masses here. There are many independent, progressive thinkers in the area who just choose not to identify themselves so prominently.
I hope you can take comfort in knowing that you are not alone in this area of the south. (I’m driving one of those non-stickered Hondas out there.) I read your blog and it reminds me that I am not alone.
(Let’s not forget that Chatham County voted “blue” in the last presidential election. Of course, you’d never know it by driving around Savannah.)
Gary Strong says
Sometimes, as we pass 30 we start to minimize “risk” in favor of “security.” The trick is to know which “risks” are worthy of possibly losing some “security” to participate. It doesn’t mean you lost your “balls,” just that your “sex drive” is pursuing a route more traveled.
G
Garmachi says
I’m totally with you on the W sticker thing. It reminds me of something Orwellian: You’re not “in” without one, and politely tolerated if you lack one. “Oh dear, your ‘W’ sticker simply must have fallen off… here, I have a spare…” Good lord, it’s the mark of the beast!
I gotta admit though… I have a soft spot for the rebel flag. At least in its original incarnation, that is. The little guy standing up to the big guy, that sort of thing.
Keep fighting the good fight sista!
Mag says
I like the awareness and honesty of his comment.
I think about this quite a lot in my own attempt to understand the difference between people but until you walk a mile in someone’s shoes – it’s all a guess.