It was an early, fall Wednesday morning and I was running late to my 8:30 World Music class. I arrived to find only one spot left, in the first row in front of some Greek guy that looked like he hadn’t slept in years. His bloodshot eyes followed me to my seat.
Every Monday and Wednesday that semester, this scenario played out. And each time I thought to myself, “My God, just please don’t let me have to sit next to that guy.”
Little did I know, though, that guy would turn out to be my editor and one of my best friends. Charlie Hambos, for all the good times and for all the bad, I am so very blessed to have had the opportunity to be apart of your life. Thank you for all of the fights, the laughs, the drives, Starbucks runs, the tears and the talks. You’re an amazing leader with a beautiful heart. I will miss assisting you in and outside of our second home, The Minaret office. I’ll miss giving you Bank of America lollipops. I’ll miss our stick figure Post-Its. If I ever see a roach, fly or any other insect, you’ll be the first person I’ll call. Because, let’s face it, we make an impeccable duo. If I could do it all over again, I wouldn’t change a damn thing. I love you.
I began my Mina-career as a music writer covering events for UT’s music department. Shortly after, I became Charlie’s assistant for Arts & Entertainment. When I took over the section as editor, I found a love for journalism. Until then, I had never realized that I could mix my music major with writing, and pursue it as a career. Thanks to The Minaret, I found my niche and fell in love with music journalism.
Now, as Assistant Editor-in-Chief, I look back on the past few years spent in Vaughn 211 and think about how much my UT experience would have been different without my job here. For one, I’d probably have a significantly higher GPA. I’d have always gone to my Wednesday classes. I’d have passed more Wednesday tests and quizzes. I’d be well rested. I would never know UT Security, Public Information or Tampa Police Department’s numbers by heart. I would have witnessed less crime and less injury. I would only be an attendee to campus and local events. I’d never have a byline. I’d never have my own office with my own fancy and programmed keyboard (thanks, Alex!). I’d probably never eat Domino’s, Five Guys or Rigatoni’s.
But when I think about all the lessons I’ve learned—journalistic, business, life—everything above is worth it. All the deadlines, all the Tuesday afternoons that turned into Wednesday mornings and even all the errors that still somehow make it to press (“Director of the Michael Bay”)—they’re all apart of The Minaret experience.
To the staff: you are all such wonderful people. Thank you for supporting my music endeavors. Thank you for allowing me to be myself and accepting me through all the bad times. Thanks for teaching me how to not take life too seriously. Thank you for being my best friends. And thanks for understanding when I yell “BREAKING NEWS IT!” to never question my grammatical choice to convert nouns into verbs.
Alex Vera, you will do a fantastic job next year as editor. You inspire me everyday. I will miss our food runs in your BMW blasting Lady Gaga and Kelly Clarkson. Thank you for just being you. I have to ask though, now whenever I fall, who will pop out of nowhere sprinting with a “Wet Floor” sign?
To my replacement: Mike Trobiano. I can remember when you first came to the office when I was A&E editor. I thought, “Man that guy’s pants can’t get any tighter.” Boy was I wrong! But now as you take a step up, I have every faith that you will be a great leader. I’m so proud of you.
Derrick Austin, you are fabulous. Don’t ever doubt your heart and your talents. Last year I told you I would miss being able to turn around and ask, “How’s Commentary?” because I was moving into the back office. Now, as I am officially a Minaret alumna, I will miss being able work with you each week. Thank you for all of the talks and all of the hugs. You are an amazing fairy godfather.
Dr. Tripp, thank you for taking on such a big role in the paper at such an awkward time for all of us. I am so glad that I had the chance to work with you. You have been there for me so much outside of the office, even after only a few months. I cannot thank you enough for everything.
Kyle, I will miss you our professional banter that pretty much consists of calling each other “dude” and “bro.” Laura, Cliff and Heather, thanks for putting up with all of the last-minute stories and editorials. Abby, thank you for being on call and so organized. Mily, thank you for your patience and your drive. For everyone else who I probably missed, you have a dear place in my heart. You are my second family and I love you all.
Even though I’ll be just up the road in graduate school, life without our 20-page newspaper seems empty. And as I try to fill that void now, I look back and smile over my favorite part of UT, The Minaret.
Mel Steiner can be reached at msteiner@ut.edu.