Thoughts and Ramblings

Ch 1

 “In the name of the father, the son, and the blessed ghost,” said a Pastor Brian Kane.

“Amen,” replied the congregation as they bowed their heads in prayer for the closing of the service.

Cait obediently stood up from her pew and followed behind her mother and father as they walked down the center aisle of the chapel. When they reached the door they turned, stood three abreast, and waited to shake the hands of the congregation as they left.       

 A breeze blew through the ocean of corn that surrounded the tiny chapel, causing the stalks to bend and sway in its wake. Cait stared out over it, zoning out as her father spoke to Mr. Bennington. She had to keep a smile on her face and a clean reputation, it was her duty as the daughter of the preacher of Crofton, one of the tiniest towns in the proud state of Nebraska. 

            Families and small groups collected on the front lawn, discussing weather patterns and Friday night’s football game. It’d been a rivalry night, though the big story of the game was the arrest of Howard Bronson. He’d streaked across the football field during halftime and when he’d finally been caught a small baggy of meth had been found in his pocket. Whisps of conversation about the arrest drifted up to Cait who still stood at the entrance of the chapel. She smirked as she heard parents quietly discussing their worry for their children.

            “Cait aren’t you going to answer Mr. Bennington,” said her mother.

            “Oh sorry I missed what you asked,” Cait responded.

            “Little lady I was asking if you and Fred were tying the knot yet?” repeated Mr. Bennington.

            “Not just yet sir. Hopefully, he’ll ask soon,” Cait replied.

            “Better hurry before that boy gets a football scholarship,” he replied causing himself, and Mr. And Mrs. Kane to explode in laughter.

            “I’ve been telling her that for months,” replied Mrs. Kane.

Cait and her best friend Margo were dating the football and basketball captains. Most of the town figured that there was a joint wedding coming once spring rolled around and they all graduated high school. IF they’d known what was really going on the story of Howard Bronson would have simply been childs play.

            The stream of paritioners was slowng down, causing Cait to fidget just the slightest. She couldn’t wait until Margo and her had saved enough money to move to Portland. They were not only best friends, but also business partners. They’d almost saved they’re goal of twenty thousand dollars, since they couldn’t leave Fred, and John, Margo’s boyfriend behind. They weren’t in love, well two of them were, but it wouldn’t be the couple you’d expect. No when the four of them ditched town the gossip left behind would be far juicier than a mere allopement.

            Mr. Kane closed the red chapel doors firmly behind the last paritioner and locked it with a chain and padlock. Sure this was a one horse town, but the appearance of meth in the past few months had put Crofton on high alert. The emergence of meth was always followed by an influx of homosexuals, vegans, and the erosion of good steadfast Christian morals, or at least that’s Mr. Kane preached most Sundays.

            Within minutes the family was packed into the Subaru and headed home for Sunday brunch.

            “Dad could you drop me off at Margo’s? I need to work on a science project,” Cait said from the back seat, one ipod ear piece dangling from her head.

            “Sure honey. The two of you work too hard. Its your senior year. Enjoy it a bit before you need to start working in the fall,” Mr. Kane said.

            “Sure Dad I’ve just been fascinated with chemistry,” Cait replied as she stared out the window at the endless sea of corn that trapped her.

            Dust trailed behind the car as they wove up the dirt road that lead to the Gomez estate. It billowed and covered everything in a fine layer of dirt. The Gomezs’ were one of the richest families in town. Their entire property was covered in sugar beets, causing the tag line of their company to be “You can’t beat the beets,” Cait had heard Mr. Gomez say that so many times that she and Margo had secretly turned it into a drinking game.

            The car slid to stop in front of the house and Cait got out, slamming the door behind her. She traipsed up the front steps, let her self in, and quickly ran up the stairs to the second floor. Knocking three times on a blue wooden door, she waited a moment before turning the latch and quickly walking in.

            “You weren’t at the service this morning,” Cait said as she jumped onto the bed. Margo was sitting Indian style on the floor, counting money and smoking an American Spirit.

            “I was sick,” she said fake coughing, but never averting her eyes from the pile of money she was counting.

            “Everyone was talking about Howard after the service,” Cait continued as she slapped her pack against the palm of her hand.

            “Howard’s a fucking idiot! I told you we shouldn’t have sold to him. We need to keep a low profile,” she said as she wrapped a rubber band around the pile of money and slipped it under her mattress.

            “I know, but its taken us forever. We’re still eight thousand short. I’m going fucking crazy. If I have to go on one more date with Fred I’m going to fucking kill myself,” Cait said sighing dramatically afterwards.

            “Dramatic much. Dude you have too. We need to keep up appearances if we want to get out of here,” Margo continued, now she was looking at Cait.

            “But he’s just so gay,” Cait said.

            “You’re one to talk,” Margo laughed as she got up and pulled a black back pack out from the back of her closet.

            “Yea well I’m not obvious about it,” Cait added. Margo rolled her eyes.

            “Its only because you’re the preachers daughter that no one would dare guess. Anyway, we need to move this entire bag this week if we want to keep up the demand,” Margo continued.

            “Yea cool. How many more kilos do we need to sell before we can leave? ” Cait questioned.

            “If everything goes as planned, we’re about a month from our goal,” Margo replied. 

                         The next day Cait and Margo drove to school in Starlord, Margo’s car. Kids were dillydallying in front of the school, no one in a hurry to start their Mondays. As they walked up to the front door the home room bell tolled, but no one turned to go in. Every one was huddle in small groups and whispering amongst themselves.

“What’s going on?” Margo whispered

“I don't’ know,” Cait said

Just then the loudspeaker roared to life and the voice of Principal Colin echoed through campus.

“Students today we will be on an abbreviated schedule. In light of the events that took place Friday night, each student will be called to my office to speak with two officers that have been sent down here from Lincoln. I expect you all to be on your best behavior,” Principal Colins said. 

“Fuck,” Cait whispered to Margo

“Just be cool they’d never accuse either of us without evidence,” Margo said.

Just then two officers walked up to them. A lady cop tapped Cait on the shoulder causing her to turn around. The lady had long brown hair that curled and dark brown eyes. Standing next to her was a young looking cop. His hair was cut close to his head, but there was a hole in his ear lobe where an earrings used to hang.

“Which way to the principal’s office,” asked the lady cop.

“Straight in and its on your left,” Cait responded, conscious that her cheeks were flushing.

“Thanks,” she responded and walked away.

“See you later then!” Cait called.

“Dude you’re so lucky you’re the preachers daughter,” Margo responded with a smirk on her face.

“We’re fucked,” Cait whispered. 

“Dude its going to be fine,” Margo reassured her.

“No I mean look,” Cait said as she nodded down the hall. The lady cop turned once more and then disappeared into the front office.

“Yup we’re screwed,” Margo muttered.

            So I’m not very good at talking to a camera, but I want to get in on the conversation that’s been going on about youtube. First, a few weeks ago, SparkleofGlitter talked about the pressures of being a youtube celebrity and how foreign it was to her, whenever she went to a convention, then Ashley Mardell addressed the situation and I know countless have spoken about this, far more than I could list here, but the breaking point for me was Hannah Hart’s last episode.

It actually made me sad, and that’s saying something. MDK never makes me sad, in fact it’s usually the bright spot in my week, not to sound pathetic, but hey I’m living in a foreign country, dealing with the aftermath of coming out. Anyway, Hannah made a point this week of getting plastered, to almost prove she was still Hannah Hart. I never questioned this fact, but apparently more than a few people have on the internet have. Towards the end of the video it turned incredibly poetic. She put a video of her sober self almost pleading to her audience, that she was still her, over the back drop of her drunk self.

Isn’t the fact that the past few months of episodes she's produced been of  a sober Hannah, been more authentic than anything we’ve seen? And hey, we all know youtubers make a living off of ads. Hannah Hart however seems to always choose sponsors that would enlighten us. For god sake she has a book club. Other youtubers promote audible, but they don’t actually discuss the books they have been listening to with their viewers.

I know that there has been, for lack of better word, a rift forming between creators and viewers. As the audience of the site expands this is inevitable. I can’t even imagine the pressure that she and other well-known youtubers are under. They make a living by exposing themselves to the public, yet the public is always thirsting for more blood. In many ways I think the pressure they face is worse, than the usual trials a traditional celebrity has to face. They are their own paparazzi.

 We as a community should be happy that youtube has evolved into a forum that in some ways is being taken seriously by more mainstream forms of media. Youtube is democracy at work, we collectively have made all of these people “famous” and we should stand by them and believe that their integrity won’t be lost.

The website has exploded within the past four years and its evolving. I have no idea what it will become, but I still see it as a forum that can ignite change. I can’t tell you how many social causes I have gotten involved in because of some off hand comment or perhaps pre-moted soapbox: ie The Trevor Project, that a youtuber has pushed forth.