LAST DRUNK STANDING

Well, it finally happened. I received that call from Neil Patel. My time at the Caller is wrapping up. Everyone gets that moment eventually; we all face it—though some might linger a bit longer than others. I suppose I can say I was one of the last ones.

When Tucker departed, I had been there for nearly two years, and let me tell you, those were wild times. Just think about it—we had a keg and a bar right in our newsroom. It was especially useful back when Pennsylvania was called at 2 am in 2016; we were still buzzing, laughing, smoking, and, most importantly, keeping the posts flowing.

We all kind of anticipated Tucker would eventually leave, but the timing was a shock. Then I got that call from Patel.

People figured it would be tough to continue the Daily Caller without Tucker. On that first Friday of my new role as editor-in-chief, the atmosphere was a mix of too much drinking and smoking. We might have been the last newsroom in the country that still enjoyed the occasional indoor celebration, believe it or not.

Tucker was certainly missed, but the team’s morale was never an issue. We were a band of merry warriors—overworked yet optimistic about our place in the grand scheme, if I may say. The tricksters of the political media landscape. Pirates sailing the tumultuous seas. Sometimes our ship felt a bit rickety, but it was ours. You could almost sense the hesitation from others when they saw us on the horizon.

I can picture them thinking in the WH press pool or on Capitol Hill, “Oh no, it’s them again.”

We got quite a kick when NBC’s Brian Williams showed our website’s front page on his nightly broadcast during Trump’s amnesty talks. “And over at the Daily Caller, they covered the news with the headline, ‘Don’s Juans,’” he said, not hiding his disdain.

We couldn’t help but laugh. Tables were thumped, fresh beers were passed around. It felt like, instead of the chaos in Lord of the Flies, we were actually just enjoying good times around a fire.

There are plenty of quirky memories. Once, we raffled off free AR-15s to grow our email list, which did not sit well with the Washington Post. And when we handed out cold beers to Kavanaugh protesters outside the Supreme Court? Yeah, they weren’t fans of that either. Turns out, distributing alcohol in public isn’t quite legal.

Things got even crazier in the office. We hired a video producer who kicked off the day with about ten ounces of vodka. One of our managing editors earned a reputation for rummaging through other people’s trash. Our most prolific writer frequently quit in dramatic fashion with emails titled “Howlz Out,” only to return the next day as if nothing had happened. And then there was the media reporter Tucker hired just to keep her from reporting what was said during our editorial meetings.

RIP, Betsy.

The peak of our antics was around 2019. Calling this crew motley would be an understatement. Saagar Enjeti, Benny Johnson, Stephanie Hamill, and so many others—each one was a force to be reckoned with.

I remember Neil pulled me aside to let me know that Showtime would be filming us for an episode of “Circus.” I wasn’t a fan of broadcast or TV folks in general and tried to decline, but Neil insisted. That was rare.

They were not ready for our editorial meeting. The crew was visibly taken aback, and afterward, the executive producer said, “That was truly something else. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Yeah, that’s just the way we do things around here,” I replied. It was pretty wild.

He even suggested a show based on our meetings and banter, which Neil was into. I wasn’t so sure; it was the second time someone pitched a reality show about us, and honestly, I’m glad it didn’t happen.

I could’ve cleaned up better myself. There’s a reason they called me the “pirate king.” At our yearly fundraising events, I had actually gotten into two fights. And if I could change one thing, I wish I’d sprayed our chief operating officer with the bear mace Tucker jokingly handed me while we were fishing. That would have been hilarious, and even my buddy Chris Bedford told me no.

“You’ll get fired, dude,” he said.

Then Covid came along. Lockdowns happened, and somehow, years went by. I aged, and we tried to clean up our act a bit. We still had happy hours, but they mostly moved outside the office. The team consistently hit karaoke nights at a dive that had a unique smell—dried urine and bleach, perhaps? I started to step back; kid life just slowed me down a bit.

I probably should have left earlier. When Tucker got his notice at Fox, Neil asked me to keep things running while they set up TCN, so I stayed on. It kind of felt like being the last one remaining at a party, sitting at a kitchen island surrounded by empty cans and ashes. Just one lone drinker in a once-crowded space.

In my circles, we’d call that guy a “wupton.” Maybe two people would understand that joke. Well, the legendary wupton has since cleaned up his act, as we all must eventually. It’s the circle of life.

We left an impression in ways the media might not have anticipated. I’m proud of our reporting—whether on Russiagate, foreign influence, or the more recent social issues. We took on Google and managed to achieve some victories. We dismantled their so-called “fact-checking regime” and shared their blacklist. We were even early on the Fauci and gain-of-function discussions and the Covid lockdowns.

Sure, we made mistakes, but we tried to take responsibility and hit hard where it mattered.

It seems fitting that my exit comes from a call from Neil. This might be the third or fourth time I’ve technically been let go, but this one feels final. I’m weary and realize I should have moved on long before this. Patel is doing me a favor.

I did tell him, “I’m glad you swung the ax yourself.”

“There was no other option,” he replied.

This farewell signifies a closure similar to the one that marked my arrival here in the first place. One thing I’ve learned is that it’s the hurdles we face that truly shape us, not just the good times.

I used to be all about Irish goodbyes—just slipping out without a word—but later came to see it as a bit selfish. It’s about acknowledging those around you before you leave. It’s the least one can do.

And now, it’s all wrapped up. I know it seems sudden, but that’s my story. Thanks for joining me. Thanks for reading. Thanks for everything.

-Howlz Out-

A quick note: As I sign off, I want to assure you that this newsletter isn’t going away. Starting tomorrow, it will continue to be delivered to your inbox every weekday morning. Exciting times ahead!