Humorist Garrison Keillor once described the reason people in a small a
town read the local newspaper. They just want to see if the reporters got
the stories right.
I'm not so sure I disagree. The grapevines, rumor mills, coffee klatches
and gossip all do a pretty fair job of conveying various tidbits around a
town. The smaller the town, the faster and more accurate the gossip.
For example, I once edited a newspaper in Wrangell, Alaska, a small town
that makes St. James look like New York City by comparison. Try to find it
on the map, if you can. One evening, I asked the high school¹s home
economics teacher out to dinner and a movie. Please note that this was 12
years before I got married. (There's one rumor quashed.) The next afternoon,
the high school-age daughter of the newspaper's owner came whirling into the office.
Before she even sat down, she proceeded to tell me who I had the date with,
where we went for dinner, what we had for dinner and what movie we watched.
Living in Wrangell gave me a new appreciation for the powers of the
rumor mill. However, I think a good local newspaper provides two services
even the best of rumor mills cannot.
First, a good newspaper is like a mirror. It shows us, individually and
as a community, what we look like. Individually, we each have a pretty good
idea of our appearances. I'm about 6 feet tall, have brown hair, brown eyes,
have the dark and strikingly handsome features of James Bond and so on.
When I get up in the morning and stand in front of the mirror, though,
something happens. I still have brown hair. I still have brown eyes. But
James Bond has been replaced by this odd-looking 45-year-old dude. And so,
through the mirror, I get my daily reality check.
So, too, does a newspaper provide a much-needed weekly reality check. We
may have a certain preconceived notion about St. James and Watonwan County,
and it may or may not be accurate. To borrow a cliche, a newspaper will show
us the good, the bad and the ugly among us, but it will also show us our
beauty, our strengths and our weaknesses.
Second, a newspaper is like a best friend. A newspaper will be first in
line to congratulate community members on their successes. But it will also
not shy away from pointing out shortcomings. We have all encountered
"fair-weather" friends who are around as long as the going is easy, but who
disappear when the going gets rough. A good newspaper is there through the
good times and bad.
A best friend also suggests -- never demands -- ways to improve. A
newspaper does that by actively seeking ideas and information from within
the community and, if needed, looking beyond our borders to other
communities that have faced similar circumstances.
So there you have our mission at the Plaindealer: be a mirror and a best
friend to the people of St. James and Watonwan County.
When I was approached by the folks here at the Plaindealer about
returning, I hesitated. I wondered what I might be able to offer that isn¹t
already being offered. I suppose I¹ll be figuring that out in the coming
weeks. Along with Beverly and Naomi, I'll be doing my best to fulfill the
expectations you, the readers, have of the Plaindealer.
The only problem about returning after five years is finding the right
job title. Around the house, I keep trying to get the kids to refer to me
the Most Supreme Commander. They have objected and tend towards something
like "Dad."
I once read about a political movement in Kenya or somewhere in Africa,
I can't remember where, called the Party of the Upright Young Men. The
leader was called the Most Upright Young Man, but I wonder if that will fit
on the Plaindealer¹s masthead. And my wife keeps reminding that "young" may
not be the most accurate description for a 45-year-old former newspaper
editor, financial planner, stock broker, amateur carpenter (I built some
bookshelves once) and unpublished novelist.
Doc -- oops, that should be Mr. Doc, Sir -- and I tried to come up with
a job title. Contributing editor, editorial coordinator and What's-His-Face
each had a certain charm and were adequately nondescript but never really
captured my imagination.
One of the kids' favorite TV shows is "Bill Nye the Science Guy." Maybe
a title based on that would work -- Carl S. the Writing Guy.
Nah. Let's see. Maybe a combination, like Carl S., the Most Supreme
Writing Guy of the Upright Middle-age Men. Or, since I¹m just working in the
mornings, how about Carl S., the Part-time Most Supreme Writing Guy of the
Upright Middle-age Men Who Likes to Hang Around the House in the Afternoons.
I like it! But again, I think we might have a space problem.
How about keeping it simple. How about Writer?
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