Not Garbo admittedly, but this is, for me, as momentous as what must have been Greta’s talking debut for the film industry back then.
What this is, besides an exercise in the usual perverse logic that informed my erstwhile career in marketing and advertising, is an attempt to try to articulate, out loud no less, my ideas for a magazine I will soon be trying desperately to launch before the summer solstice.
For those not in the know, it has been a measured effort, to say the least, and not in any way desperate except briefly at some dramatic stopping posts along the way (back in 2004 in particular), but is now finally coming to a head almost despite me. As I finally, woefully (only to describe the poverty of my efforts at summoning the requisite energy), get into gear, and prepare what will be the inaugural issues of the magazine—plural because it will launch both in print and online—I find it’s time to face the music and do what I have managed to avoid doing with any clarity or precision for what is now going on 23 years, which I first had an inkling of an idea for a publication.
So, attached to this post is what can only laughably call a podcast with my first creaking efforts at articulating what bertha magazine (for that is what it is to be called, with a provisional registered trademark, and other accouterments of governmental sanction of the entity, like an ISSN number, so scholars and librarians can find the damn thing wherever it is they look already in hand). All that remains is for me to assemble the contents for that premier issue and get it into people’s hands through whatever channel constitutes commercial distribution.
I think if you click on this you’ll hear my dubious intonations, recorded right here at my desk in my aerie of an office (isn’t that what I’m supposed to call it? Nest like an eagle… I hardly dare to hope to soar like one) at the top of our house in Merion Station: