Never not working

I am never not working.

That is not to say that I am always working—the fact is that I am as lazy as I can get away with.

The amount I can get away with isn’t exactly at “independently wealthy” levels—and that’s enough said about that.

We’re not allowed to whine in Wyoming, right?

A Double Negative

makes a Positive?

But it is true I am never not working.

I have been handing out candy to trick or treaters when a fire started up. If you are me that means drop your sweets, grab your camera and get to the flames.

I have been taking in an evening toddy (or more) and had folks come to me with stories that should—and needs to—be told.

The bartenders are probably sick of me asking for pen and a piece of paper by now, but I get them and take notes.

The biggest challenge I have had with this is that I may or may not be able to read my own scrawl depending on what time of night you ran into me.

I have also had people ask me about a story we have printed or are working on. I try to give them what I know without being overly gossipy.

You might think this annoying because most of you get to leave your jobs and be done with it for the day. I really don’t mind most of the time. It gives me an excuse to have interesting conversations with a variety of individuals (and sometimes, groups).

Every once in a while someone comes to me with something that is either patently ludicrous or is insupportable.

Eh.

I don’t like even looking like I am blowing those folks off—but pester me enough and I will.

Ooh, I didn’t even like thinking that.

Most folks are good about just talking to me though and I enjoy that.

Going to Outgoing

An added benefit of being a reporter is that I have found myself being more outgoing.

I’ll give you an example.

I was out playing some pool one Friday night when I spotted four unfamiliar men sitting at a nearby table.

These were some “big boys” as it were, but that did not keep me from approaching their table and saying something along the lines of, “Wow, ya’ll are some big mother flunkers!”

That got their attention.

While these oversized gents looked up at me bemusedly (possibly figuring out whether to laugh or beat me up), I introduced myself, apologized for the abruptness of my intrusion into their lives and asked what they were doing in town.

Some short conversation later I found the group was one of the crews working on a nearby river restoration project.

I was immediately intrigued.

“Using big equipment in the river?”

“Yes.”

“Where at?”

“Up at the Ryan Ranch on the North Platte.”

“How long you been doing that project?”

“A couple of weeks now.”

As the conversation went on, I found out that they were working for, and with, two local fellows I know.

I am not going to identify Joe Parsons or Jeff Streeter by name, but when I talked to both of these extremely busy gents later they both apologized for not letting me know about what became a two-page layout.

So when I texted the first unnamed gentleman and asked if I could get out and take some photos he immediately invited to take me out to the project that Sunday.

This was going to be the first Sunday I had off in a while, but I jumped at the chance. I ended up taking some good photos and got some good quotes and solid information to boot.

Later that week, I met up with the second anonymous man and got even more photos, information and quotes.

It all turned into what was a pretty informative piece—all because I went up to a group of strangers and started a conversation.

Line of Sight

I bounce around the county a lot and if I happen to fall into your line of sight, feel free to come chat.

Sometimes that chatting turns into a story, sometimes it is just a pleasant diversion. Either way I try to be easy to talk to.

If I have to run, but see the possibility of a story or some photos that need to be taken, I will take your information or throw you one of my cards.

Either way don’t be shy. I never know from where my best stories come.

Grumpiness

I have chronicled the various things I have to do for this job—payroll, finding and assigning stories, taking photos, occasionally inserting at two in the morning, hiring, firing—that kind of thing.

Sometimes these things make me grumpy. I endeavor not to show that face to the public as much as possible, but fortunately (or unfortunately) I am at an age where people expect a certain amount of grumpiness. The white hair is a giveaway.

So take that as you will.

As much as I grouse, I have not yet had the occasion to yell at kids to “get off my lawn!”—so there’s that.

Who am I? Anyway?

The fact is that, for the most part, I really enjoy being your editor.

I get to write “pithy” pieces like this.

I also, for the most part, enjoy talking to just about anyone—you don’t even have to fit my definition of “interesting.”

All this means is that if you have something that needs to be in the paper, let me know.

I am never not working.

 

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