Save Jeff Kay

I spend a lot of time each day reading prose of varying degrees of quality. It's always comforting to know that there are certain writers I can depend on to give me exactly what I'm looking for. And one of those reliable writers is Jeff Kay of The West Virginia Surf Report.

I discovered The WVSR via The Gargoyle Letters, one of the funniest bits of correspondence I've ever encountered, in which the wonderfully named ArdnaTyne frets about her neighbor's possibly Satanic yard decorations. I go back to that page every six months or so, hoping that it will be updated. So far, no luck.

For some reason, though, it took me a while explore the rest of The WVSR, but I eventually fell under the spell of its proprietor -- middle-aged, middle-managing ex-'zinester and former record marketing weasel Jeff Kay. He's a funny, funny guy. Occasionally crude, true, and sometimes not "politically correct" (whatever than means anymore), but sharply observant and possessing a brutally self-deprecating wit. I look forward to every daily installment and am sorely disappointed when one doesn't appear. When I was in China last summer, worn to a frazzle by the rigors of my first round of foreign travel, I enjoyed visiting his site from the hotel computers, just for a dose of down-to-earth American humor.

I've never figured out what Jeff actually does for a living, but last month, out of the blue, he was downsized. Yikes. He's handling it pretty well, but he's looking to monetize The WVSR while looking for his next full-time gig. He could use extra visitors, so please drop on by.

For a quick taste of Jeff's singular genius, check out his page of favorite quotes: "Sweet Sainted Mother of Blanket Jackson." If you laugh more than once, explore the rest of the site. You're not likely to regret it.