Damn my millennial soul. I see a weathered old piece of paper indicating that there is a blog for guests of this creaky old inn, and my first thought is that I have to participate. Complete with prompts about who I am and what brings me here. It's like one of those old chain emails my friends used to pass around in middle school.
The name's Tom Nishimura, and I have come to this delightfully rustic slice of beachfront -- er, beach-adjacent... er, beach-seriously it's not that far of a walk property on business. I'm a journalist, and I've come up from D.C. to meet with a source. What could someone squatting in some one-horse hamlet in Maine have to say about national politics? Well... I'm trying to decide how much I can get away with telling you. There's a few people out there who probably want this story killed.
And before you ask, no, it's not going to be the story that finally takes down Trump. I try to stay far away from that mess (inasmuch as anybody can these days.) In fact, I don't even normally write about politics. My usual beat is tech. The best I can offer is slightly upsetting some CEOs and shareholders, but that doesn't mean the truth isn't important.
Put it this way: How much do you know about your smartphone: what's inside it and where it came from? Would it surprise you to know that there's some really shady stuff going on in the supply chain for rare Earth minerals? (With a slug like that, who could resist? Luckily, I had an editor who feels that way.)
What was fixing to be a rather tedious story has admittedly become a little bit more interesting due to the difficulty I've had tracking down sources. Luckily, I'm pretty resourceful on that front, and I think I've found someone who will be willing to talk.
Well, on that tease, I'm going to prep for my interview and then find some way to relax. Who knows, maybe I'll read some of the (eyes pop) nineteen years??! of backlogged posts on this blog.
Why in the hell is this summer getaway's blog so active year-round? And why do all the correspondents have two names? Journalistic curiosity: piqued.
-Tom N.
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