the 941

From this week’s Planet…

I pulled into Sarasota at 4 a.m., having sweat through the shirt I�d been wearing for two days. A pile of fast-food wrappers, pistachio shells and a few empty Red Bulls littered the car floor. My buddy John, who�d come along for the trip from San Francisco, was rambling about some tribe in the south Pacific that hasn�t discovered fire. We�d been driving for 14 straight hours.
It wasn�t the glorious entrance I had imagined. After a move like this � 3,000 miles, new job, cohabitation after years of long-distance with the girlfriend � I had pictured a celebration. A huge meal, wine, a sunset walk on the beach. Maybe we�d hit a bar or two, get to know Sarasota. This kind of move is big, you can tell by the pit growing in your stomach as you get closer to your new life, and when you finally arrive you�re looking for a stupendous beginning.
Instead, as I drove into town, a bungee cord holding my tired Civic together (the plastic below the engine called it quits near Fredricksburg, Texas.), I found the familiar anonymous hush of a sleeping town. No pedestrians. No open stores. No pack of wild dogs like we�d seen in Las Cruces, N.M. I crept down Fruitville Road., through the Rosemary District, past my new office.
The place was empty, a blank slate.
And as I turned toward my new house, finally acknowledging the stink wafting from my shirt and the whine coming from my poor car, I realized that this was the exact arrival I needed. Sure, a fancy dinner would�ve been nice. But to see Sarasota asleep in my first few minutes as a resident, to see the place bare, was the best welcome I could get.
It reminded me of a recent warning from Donna Ladd, a reporter and editor in Mississippi who�s always good for a kernel of truth. The worst thing you can do as a journalist, she said, is to decide what the story is before you report it. And in the still of 4 a.m. Sarasota, the city�s stories tucked away in silent houses and empty storefronts, I didn�t even have the chance to make that mistake.
Just a little reminder: I have to figure this place out.

WHILE I DIDN�T KNOW MUCH about Sarasota on that Friday night two weeks ago, I did have a good sense of the Weekly Planet. Before my four-month sojourn to San Francisco � one of the all-time great sojourn destinations � I was a staff writer at the Tampa Bay Planet. For those of you with fantastic memories, you might remember a few stories of mine that ran in this edition. Then again, you might not, because all of them were based in Tampa Bay. And as I�ve learned since moving to Sarasota, those cities to the north feel pretty far away.
Which is why I�m here. Over the last year, the paper has started to focus more on providing you with Sarasota-specific content. Mark Sanders, whose eye for stories will be sorely missed now that he�s in New Mexico getting a master�s, and Cooper Levey-Baker, who spent the past two weeks filling me in on the treasures of this place (I�m considering a strictly Hob Nob-only diet), have been great guides to local art and events. But the paper was still being edited out of Tampa, and as several Sarasotans (I think Sarasotites has a better ring to it) have told me in these past few weeks, the Planet was lacking a local focus. As David Warner, my predecessor and a remarkable editor, wrote in these pages last week, the Planet needed a Sarasota taxpayer at the helm. Well, here I am.
Some Tampa related content will stay in the paper � we�ll always let you know when a can�t-miss show is coming to Jannus or Skipper�s � but you can expect our Talk of the Town section and cover stories to concentrate more on Sarasota and Manatee. We�re going to give you the compelling narratives, the vital investigations and the extensive arts coverage that an emerging area like this deserves. Oh, and we�re going to have some fun while we do it.
We�ve got more changes planned. In the next month, we�ll be switching our name to Creative Loafing, the name of our sister papers in Atlanta and Charlotte. I�m looking forward to it for two reasons: 1. We won�t have to deal with any more of the Clark Kent jokes. But they were always original. Promise. 2. The name change will coincide with our stepping bravely into the 21st century and launching a Sarasota website. It will have all of our regular content, plus searchable event and restaurant listings.
We are so eager to get online � we�ve been hearing about this interweb thing for years � we already have somewhere for you to go. Our editorial blog, The Smorgasboard, is up and running. As the name suggests, The Smorg is a bit of everything, from posts of endearment about our favorite SNN weathermen (I�m looking at you, Justin Mosely) to political commentary; from affordable housing to the killer sandwich we had for lunch. And we�d like you to get in on the act. The Smorgasboard is a conversation; we need your comments and your tips.
In fact, I�d like your input on the paper as a whole. Think there�s something we ought to be covering? Send an e-mail to max@weeklyplanet.com or give me a call, 906-7476. I�ll be around town, too. Look for the kinda pudgy kid whose hair, according to his girlfriend, has too much poof.
In just the last few weeks, I�ve met several people in passing who said Sarasota needs a newspaper that will explore and write honestly about local issues, even the uncomfortable ones. That�s what makes this job so exciting. (Well, that and the Herald Trib headline wondering if Sarasota�s politics are �America�s Craziest.�) People have invested here, they�re interested in shaping this city, they�re engaged.
Or at least that�s what I think after two weeks. I wouldn�t want to decide the story before I report it.

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