An intern at large in New York City

Oct. 6, 2005

Dear Leslie,

In college I spent my summers working to make money to go to college. A kid could still afford to help pay his own tuition then. One summer I sold groceries at Stubbs' Pak-A-Snak, the first convenience store in these parts. Our butcher, Lee, made delicious chicken salad. Porter Stubbs, the owner, enjoyed trying to make matches between shy me and cute customers.

The following summer I had a girlfriend, and her stepfather got me a job as a pipefitter's apprentice. I had no intention of becoming a pipefitter, but made twice as much money as I ever had before and almost learned how to weld. The experience only cost me a fingernail or two.

Now college students are almost required to spend their summers or semesters as interns in the profession of their choice. They don't settle for anything mundane, either. Our niece, Devon, interned at Disney World last year. She's a business major with aspirations to become a Disney executive.

Our nephew, Kyle, is an intern on Conan O'Brien's TV show in New York City. He's in charge of taking script changes to directors and is in the control room while the show is being taped.

He has met some famous people: Tiger Woods, Gwyneth Paltrow and Anthony Hopkins. He also has made Conan O'Brien sweat.

Before each morning's rehearsal, the comedian gathers the two interns and the two directors around him in a circle and tells the jokes in that night's monologue. On his second day on the job, Kyle made like an earnest college student and took notes while Conan was in the circle telling his jokes. Conan was looking at him every time Kyle looked up.

One of the directors took Kyle aside later and asked him to watch Conan and react instead of taking notes. He said Conan changed all his jokes that day because Kyle wasn't laughing at them.

I am not particularly attuned to Conan O'Brien's sense of humor, but watch the show just in case he decides to have fun at the expense of an intern.

What's the matter with kids today? Nothing. At 20, crossing the Mississippi River into the wilds of Illinois was an adventure to me. Communication satellites and the Internet have broadened the horizons of Generation Y in every sense. They have big ideas, big dreams, no sense of being limited. They want all of it now. As someone who has studied them pointed out to me, Generation Y grew up with computers, "Sesame Street," divorce and MTV. They only trust their own independence.

Kyle wants to write and direct movies. No doubt he will. Working on the show has given him an appreciation for his mentors' talents. "They have a great wisdom about comedy," he tells me.

Imagine being 20 years old, working on a hip TV show and living in New York City, if only for a few months. Kyle is much worldlier than I was at 20. As a sophomore in high school he was dating a senior. As a sophomore in high school I was trying not to get lost in the halls.

He is spending four months in our flawed urban Shangri-La, where the best in art and music and culture mix euphorically. At the end of December he'll go back to being one of the 50,000 students at Ohio State University. But nothing will be the same.

Love, Sam

Sam Blackwell is managing editor of the Southeast Missourian.