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That's not a typo. That's an editing symbol journalists used long ago to indicate the end of a story.
This is the end of my story at The Flint Journal.
Today's my last day here, after 17 years. I was one of many people who accepted the paper's buyout. I don't think of it as retiring -- though at 50, it's weird to think I can collect a pension in five years -- and it's not a career move.
It's all about family.
My family and I have suffered a lot of loss over the past five years. My oldest brother died in 2002. I got divorced in 2004. My dad died in 2006. Heck, even my dog died this year. That's when my life officially became a country song.
There's more, but I'll spare you.
Suffice it to say that real life has beaten me down, and music, that most transcendent of escapes, hasn't been able to compete with it. Though I have some very dear friends here who helped (and they know who they are), it's hard to go through this without family around.
Most of mine is almost 2,000 miles away. So next week I'm moving home to El Paso, Texas, where my mom, one of my brothers, my sister and her husband need me. Not as much as I need them. And the warm weather won't hurt.
The Sun City isn't known for its musical legacy, though Marty Robbins did write a great song about it. But it's where this Air Force brat grew up, saw my first concert (Grand Funk Railroad, no less, in 1970) and developed a love for music and the desire to write about it.
I left the border city 24 years ago for several reasons, one of which was a dissatisfaction with its lack of cultural offerings, especially for a city of its size. I came to Michigan in part because my former wife and my late dad are from here, and in part because I'm a huge Detroit Tigers fan.
One of the highlights of my life was sitting in the upper deck for the final game of the '84 World Series as the Tigers whipped the San Diego Padres for the championship.
I took a job with the Kalamazoo Gazette in 1983 and served what I consider to be a seven-year internship. It was there I got to know an emerging comic named Tim Allen (I still send him a Christmas card every year), and where I covered the Monsters of Rock tour for Rolling Stone.
It's also where I got married and where the true love of my life, my son, Keith, was born 19 years ago.
Kazoo and the newspaper were too small for me, so I jumped at the chance to transfer within the company to The Flint Journal, where I became the music writer in October 1990. I've been here ever since, though I never thought I'd stay this long.
The original attraction was the chance to cover shows in the Detroit area, certainly bigger than any city in which I had worked. But it didn't take long for me to realize the caliber of the talent here in Flint. Since I was always big on local music coverage -- going back to my college days at Texas Tech and the fertile music scene that fostered the likes of Stevie Ray Vaughan, Delbert McClinton, the Fabulous Thunderbirds, Terry Allen and many others -- it was important to me that The Journal include that on its pages, too.
I've covered and interviewed some of the biggest names in the industry - Madonna, Paul McCartney, Garth Brooks, the Rolling Stones, Bruce Springsteen, Prince, David Bowie, Eric Clapton, U2, James Brown, Radiohead, the Who, Notorious B.I.G., Tim McGraw, Bill Cosby, Nirvana, Led Zeppelin's Robert Plant, Alan Jackson and Motor City heroes from Bob Seger and Kid Rock to Eminem and Motown greats such as Diana Ross and Smokey Robinson, who once gave me a big bear hug after a show in Clio.
I covered tour openers for the Rolling Stones, U2, Metallica and, of course, Bob Seger in far away places like Las Vegas and Boston. I was also on the field when the Stones performed at Super Bowl XL at Ford Field, and was in the stands at the Palace when the Pistons won the NBA championship in 2004.
But as satisfying as all of those things have been, nothing has given me greater pleasure than the interaction with the musicians, bar owners, station managers, DJs, publicists and, of course, the readers that have been around these past 17 years.
I got to cover some pretty big local music stories, including LaKisha Jones' rise from this year from "American Idol" to Broadway's "The Color Purple," Davison band Chiodos' ascension up the indie rock ranks, Johnny Cash's last full concert (at Whiting Auditorium), the rise and tragic fall of the dear departed Clio Area Amphitheater, the emergence of the Machine Shop as a local music force, Grand Funk Railroad's late '90s reunion and bitter breakup (Journal photographer and all-around nice guy Bruce Edwards and I once drove Mark Farner's guitar to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame for the band) and the murder of their former manager, Terry Knight.
I wrote about Flint's early '90s rap explosion that saw M.C. Breed, The Dayton Family and Top Authority climb the national charts, and experienced the exhilaration of a Run-DMC show at the Copa.
And I was there when Flint Township resident and bluegrass pioneer Wade Mainer -- who played for FDR and shared a stage with Woody Guthrie -- celebrated his 100th birthday with his 88-year-old wife of 70 years, Julia, and a 50-minute set last April before an SRO crowd at the Fenton Community Center.
Local music coverage always has been a mission, and it was vital that all of the music coverage be fair, honest and not self-indulgent (except, of course, my occasional Stones columns!).
I leave knowing that at least we increased its presence in the paper in a big way, with cover stories, reviews, my columns and our club listings, which grew from a handful 17 years ago to two pages every week in The Entertainer.
I also started the paper's first blog (Pullenmyblog) in part to update readers on what's going on around here, though I never fulfilled its promise. There was never enough time.
It's humbling, a little embarrassing and very cool that some of the musicians I've written about over the years are throwing me a farewell concert at 5 p.m. Sunday at Jester's, 3112 N. Center Road.
Rusty Wright Blues, which instigated this, is playing, as are the Blue Hawaiians, Jim Coviak's Steelheads, folk singer Kevin Tyler and some names I can't tell you. George Zaravelis is donating his club and the food. Keith Jennings of Whaley Children's Jam fame is donating sound and lights.
Come out, say goodbye, talk music and, most importantly, listen to the wonderful sounds these hometowners make.
The Journal isn't replacing me. If you have events, news items or club listings to submit, send them to Misty Gower, the new features/entertainment/opinion editor, at entertainer@flintjournal.com. She's good people.
If you'd like to stay in touch, you can write to me at pullen.doug@gmail.com.
I plan to freelance and start my own blog. But I'll never forget the 17 years here.
I'll miss friends, my co-workers and my softball and volleyball teams.
I'll miss them all. And I'll miss you. Adios!
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