Earlier this year I applied for a fellowship that amounts to an entry-level job in the world of public radio. It was a prestigious fellowship, I suppose, and they certainly took good care of you, rotating you around different departments, teaching you tech and reporting skills, and then spinning you off on your own to work at a radio outlet somewhere in the country for awhile. All very exciting and interesting, but the real point is: It pays $40k a year, and has health insurance. Hot damn.
I didn’t get it. Not even close. Neither did a friend of mine, who’s actually studying radio production. We were having a meal the other day, talking about this and other of our mutual failures, and she said, “Yeah, I stopped being annoyed about this one when I found out this woman with a Putlizer also didn’t get it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. In breaking news reporting.”
“Wait, she didn’t get it and then she won the Pulitzer?”
“No. She already had the Pulitzer.”
Moral of the story?: No one is safe, nothing is sacred, and the line at the unemployment office is full of surprising people.
