In today’s day and age, it’s hard to really break news to someone. Everyone’s plugged in, everyone has Twitter or Facebook or Instachat or Snapgram or MyBook or FaceSpace.
So the idea of “breaking news” as we knew it growing up isn’t quite the same.
That said, in most instances, there still is the person who told you about something first.
The reason you’re looking at Mike on this page is because one of my most prominent memories of someone telling me something first happened when he passed away on June 25, 2009.
A girl I had dated casually for a bit but hadn’t spoken to in months randomly texted me to let me know what had happened. Initially, I assumed it was a group text or it was sent to me accidentally. After further and specific probing years later, I discovered that in fact it was only sent to me and it was done intentionally.
From that moment forward, Michael Jackson’s death and this girl were to be intertwined in my mind.
What was so special about that bit of news breaking, aside from the randomness of the source, was that she was so early to the news in my world, I was able to tell other people about it that hadn’t yet found out.
Now, I’m not sure if this feeling was better back then because you had to be “on the inside” to know something or better now because it’s so rare to really break something to someone, but either way, it’s a hell of a feeling.
For a brief bit, you’re an authority. The news runs through you. And, if you’re lucky, you get tied to that memory for good.
Polar Opposite of this Feeling? Thinking you are the first to tell someone something and finding out that not only is that not the case, but you’re way, way late and a ton of other shit has happened in the interim.