From the top: What a short, strange trip it's been

Dave Cathey Comments 0
Published: November 11, 2009

About a year ago, I was asked to take over as editor of this magazine, adding it to my responsibilities as Food Editor for The Oklahoman. I accepted, bidding farewell to most of my spare time to make sure Oklahoma had the best food coverage I could muster while seeing to the needs of club-hoppers, college students and up-and-coming ne’er-do-wells from Norman to Stillwater.

What a year it’s been. We brought you Look’s first-ever swimsuit issue, guides to the Norman Music Festival and Paseo Arts Festival, welcomed the Thunder, survived a summer with virtually no music as the Ford Center hibernated only to rebound with a fall that included Kings of Leon, AC/DC and U2.

Now we complete that year with The Men of OKC.

They aren’t necessarily role models, but depict today’s young man: well-appointed, ambitious and loved by women.

As a former young man, I understand there is no shame in wanting to stand out. It’s a competitive world and a short life. Windows of opportunity unexpectedly open and shut just as quick. Just as MySpace is as distant as parachute pants, Facebook and Twitter operate under the expectation that they, too, will be replaced. So, the young should shine as bright as they can while they can.

Ch-ch-ch-changes are inevitable here at Look, too — especially as all print media hurtles toward the digital abyss. But that is change for the future. As for change in the present, this is my last issue as editor. I’ll be handing the keys to this bus to a far-more capable driver in George Lang, the Oklahoman’s long-time film critic and local music voice. George’s talents will serve this magazine well and carry it into the next phase of its life. You’ll still read my Food Dude columns and stories in these pages, and on newsok.com.

It’s been nice getting to know you, nice to have a chance to reach back into my youth as I’m sucked into middle age kicking and screaming. For the last 12 months, I’ve been able to think as I did before mortgages, home equity, child-care, and suburban paunch became reality rather than punch-line. (Good news, I still haven’t mowed the lawn in dress socks.) It’s been a pleasure dusting off the part of me that couldn’t contain the chills up my spine when I read Jack Kerouac’s half-century-old proclamation from “On the Road”:

“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!”

Thanks for the memories, and stay mad, kids.