MATTHEW BAUM
Previously-mentioned Idiot Scallywag
It is currently 10:04 a.m. on Sunday, Dec. 1 in Manlius, New York, and a college kid is desperately typing on his mom’s computer, his face in a grimace, as the smell of Pillsbury crescent rolls wafts in from the kitchen. His concentration is at war with his desire for breakfast, but he knows he must focus on his task at hand.
This college kid is me. I am currently writing an article.
This article.
See, for those who aren’t directly involved with the Scallion, my week usually follows this path: I meet with the other Scallywags on Monday, we plan our articles and sing praises to our benevolent leader, Joe Marciniak.
His muscles are really big and he’s a funny guy, so he could be cast as a really buff doctor or lawyer in a TV series.
Then, I have all week to procrastinate getting my article written, because they are due on Saturday at 2 p.m.
Then, my email is bombarded by notifications that editors are doing their job and making my article presentable, and I once again share my thanks for the merciful Joe to the world, because it is he who still allows me to continue writing for the Scallion, even when my works are not flawless, like his.
The thing is, there was Thanksgiving break.
At home, where I am now, I volunteer at a small business on Saturdays, and last Saturday was Small Business Saturday. I was at the All Things Oz Museum in Chittenango from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. giving tours to people who wanted to learn more about L. Frank Baum, the author of the original Oz books, written from 1899 to 1919.
Those who were paying attention would note that, hey, you were busy when the article was due, but you haven’t mentioned how busy you were every day before then! You probably were swamped with other responsibilities that took your focus away from writing!
To that I say, no. I really didn’t. I would even go so far as to say that you who were thinking such things weren’t paying attention to the part where I said I procrastinate. It’s a thing, alright? I’m not proud of it, but it’s who I am.
And Joe Marciniak, God’s gift to SUNY Fredonia and my personal master, cares for me, despite this flaw.