A friend called the other day looking for my husband Tommy and said, "By the way, I LOVE your articles."
I said, "I am writing one right now as we speak."
And she said: "Is it fun?"
I said, "It's a job."
I didn't mean to burst her bubble but I've always believed in calling a spade a spade.
I don't know why I told Mike Pirtle I'd write a weekly column two years ago... meeting a deadline on a weekly basis. I'm way too old to be meeting deadlines. It's in part because I get paid to do it. And it's fun to have my own "mad" money.
My generous husband Tommy has NEVER questioned why I spend what I do, but it's fun to have some to blow away. I use it to buy oil painting and craft supplies but mostly do what every other red-blooded mother in America does – slip some of it under the table to my children.
I never aspired to being a "writer."
Well, that's not exactly true. When our children were young I wanted to write a book on REAL motherhood. You know, those not-so-fun aspects of being a mother that the baby books never hint at. I even had the opening chapter that would have given my two basic premises: 1) Trust your instincts, and 2) You can't have anything. But that's for another article.
Being a good mother, being a good tennis player, being a good citizen, being good at painting; these are among things to which I aspire. But writing? Never entered my mind.
I used to jot down ideas or observations on slips of paper from time to time. When you've been blessed to have been in a community like ours for many years (over 38, in fact), you make observations on local life. Never, in all my born days, did I think I'd be married to a mayor. And I certainly never thought about writing a weekly newspaper article.
But, never say never, right? And there he is and here I am and I think both facts are why I'm in a unique position as a newspaper columnist. I can speak for our community.
And I am starting to notice people staring at me when I'm in public. It happened in the line when I was early voting last week.
I was off to church Friday morning (Catholics can go every day of the week), and after returning a library book I drove around the square and saw that the polls were open at 7 a.m. An empty parking spot just waiting there, so I parked and stood in the relatively short line (about 20 people) to vote. I told Anita White (longtime clerk at the Election Commission) that I was thinking about coming back later and she said: "You'll regret it. This line is really short." So I stayed.
The process was effortless and it was fun to chat with fellow voters, even if I was a little late to church.
I know not to talk about politics in line (graciously, everyone else there that morning did, too), but the lady behind me kept giving me second glances.
I assumed she was a Post reader or someone who knew me as the Mayor's wife by the look on her face. I didn't offer an introduction. If I had been in a location that was not centered around politics, I might have said something; but I wasn't about to announce to unsuspecting voters that I knew the Mayor on a very personal level. No way.
People do double takes of me in grocery stores, Just last week I spoke to a lovely woman who glanced at me several times. I simply said, "Yes, it's me." We had a nice conversation and she chatted about an article she had enjoyed. It's very encouraging when people give me positive reinforcement. When you start doing something for which you don't feel qualified, encouragement pushes you on.
Some readers say they don't like my articles on technology but at a recent function Gina Bullen said, "I loved your article on the iPod. I use mine just as much as you do." She even has a category of songs to play for her grandchildren when they're in the car. That was fun to hear.
I've resigned myself to the fact that every article can't be a Pulitzer Prize winner and some may be more well-written than others.
But I think part of the reason I haven't thrown in the towel yet is because, despite the phenomenal growth of this great city, it makes me feel connected … connected to many I know and many others that I don't. I represent many of you who still feel like we live in a small town; and observations about local happenings make me appear "folksy" and make readers feel connected, too.
So I'll be sticking around for a while. I might still dread Wednesdays (deadline day), but I'm up to the task.
If Mike will agree to renew my "contract.”
'Til next week.
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