When I left the Truth About Cars, I watched the website I founded founder. After a while, I stopped reading. TTAC had plenty of sarcasm and truth telling but no joie de vivre. No soul. No balls. No edge. No . . . bad craziness. With one exception: Jack Baruth. Jack’s pedal-to-the-metal automotive journalism made me glad TTAC hadn’t tanked. Contemplating the current Managing Editor’s psychology I knew it was only a matter of time before TTAC and Jack went their separate ways. (And that’s all I’ll say about that.) And so they have. The good news: my loss is my gain. Jack Baruth has agreed to become a regular contributor to The Truth About Guns. And I’ve been thinking about what to do with him . . .
Jack wants to write semi-demi-quasi-socio-historical pieces, like his most excellent article on the ill-fated Liberator pistol. No problem there. If that’s what floats his boat, anchors aweigh! But really the ex-pin-and-plate-match competitor needs a more challenging assignment.
Hunting. Jack needs to write about hunting. Dangerous animals. In dangerous places. With crazy people. (Ipso facto.) If anyone can challenge Earnest Hemingway for the title of world’s greatest outdoor writer, while channeling the spirit of Hunter S. Thompson, it’s Jack Baruth.
And so Dan and I are ringing-up our industry contacts, trying to find a foreign hunting junket for Mr. Baruth. If there’s a gun company guy or gal reading this post who organizes such things (*cough* Berettta *cough*) I implore you to email [email protected] with an offer. It’s a sure ticket to epic amounts of timeless PR and the best way to be a patron of the first-class firearms journalism—short of spending ad dollars hereabouts.
Meanwhile, I want to thank TTAG’s stable of writers for their time and talent. Publishing your work—without worrying about the page views any one piece garners—is one of my greatest joys. I value each of you for your individual dedication to honesty and literary excellence. Thank you for helping me create a website that swells my heart with pride every single day of my life. And will do, for the rest of my life. Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Baruth, hang on. We’re just getting started.