Saying goodbye is never easy

COLUMNIST'S NOTE: For those who aren't aware, this week's issue of Preview is the last one ever. Starting next week, the Post and Courier will roll out Charleston Scene, a weekly entertainment section just like Preview in every way except it won't be lame. Charleston Scene will feature more personalities, vibrant color on every page and lots of in-depth features on stuff I have no clue about, thus confirming the fact that it's cool. That said, before we line the bird cage with this soon-to-be collector's item, I thought I'd explain to Preview why we we're moving on. So please bear with me while I share an open letter to my long-time friend (with benefits):

Dear Preview,

They say breaking up is hard to do.

Yeah, not so much. We're finished.

Sure we had some great times together, like when you gave me the wrong movie times for "Spider-Man 2" and how I used you to clean up that Dr Pepper I spilled in my car back in 2003. But those memories can only get us so far. We can't live in the past forever. Which is why I'm writing to tell you that I'm leaving you for Charleston Scene.

"Why" you might ask? Well, for starters, it's younger. Not to mention sexier, hipper and, quite frankly, way less of a nag about me leaving the toilet seat up.

To which you're probably saying: "Yeah, but Charleston Scene is way fatter than I am. Have fun with that." And you're right. But you know what? Big entertainment sections need love, too. It's just more cushion for the publishin', baby!

Oh, and another thing: Charleston Scene doesn't discriminate. Yeah, that's right. I said it. Let's just say the Blue Man Group never lit up the phone lines to take an ad out in you, whereas Charleston Scene is open to all colors of the rainbow.

Look, we were great together. I get that. When I piloted the Goodyear blimp in summer of 2006, you were there. When I got a ticket (and was subsequently featured in a two-part series on the local news) for going 58 mph over the limit on my motorcycle, you were there. And when I pulled a Tiger Woods and ran around with that "woman" behind your back, you were there -- even as I announced to both my readers I was marrying her.

But like they say, all good things must come to an end. And for us, that time is now.

For what it's worth, I think this is best for both of us. You won't have to worry about if I'm having a good time at all your defunct entertainment section parties and I can finally start hanging out with all my colored friends -- even the orange ones.

Sure, we'll probably run into each other in the elevator one day at the office when somebody's taking an old recycling bin out to the Dumpster and you'll be sitting there on top of the pile, your front cover folded way down, revealing just the right amount of a Jonas Brothers CD review and I'll think to myself, "You know what, maybe this could work again" ... but NO! We must fight those temptations. We must stay strong. This is for the best.

So it is with a heavy heart that I say goodbye today.

I wish you nothing but the best. May all your stories be archived and let the fish you get wrapped around stay fresh for at least 48 hours.

Love,

Bryce

P.S. What's black and white and read all over? You, baby. And it always will be.

P.P.S. Except for the read part.