At Least They're Committed

I have come to find it quite impossible to read more than a page or two of the Chronicles of Narnia without going ever so slightly into British writing mode, save for the spelling of course.

Forgive me then, since I did previously promise myself that I’d tell this story for  both posterity and the grandchildren I’ll never meet, if I seem a bit Lewis-esque, having read 60 pages thus far of “The Silver Chair” for the 30th time.

It had, in truth, been our dream to live at the ranch, but after two summers of isolation on my part and hour-long trips to work on Darrell’s, we determined perhaps moving into the Godforsaken town of Farmington across the border, might better suit our family’s interest.

It was December then when I called the Daily Times and asked if they had any stringing jobs. They said they’d keep me in mind but later called and asked if perchance I’d be interested instead in trying for a full-time job. Of course! My first general assignment reporting position!

One of my very first assignments then was to attend the Christmas party (and do take note that this was indeed a Christmas party and not a ‘Holiday’ party or winter retreat or any such thing. The paper’s owner was very much a religious fanatic and went so far as to ban the horoscope from the funny papers having decided it was satanic). I had met Eddie Pells, who last I heard is still working for AP, when I first was introduced around the paper. That night, however, we became good friends after launching into a debate in the dinner line concerning the value or lack thereof of Dan Reeves as coach of the Denver Broncos. Obviously, I was the naysayer of the two!

Regardless, D said on our drive home how absolutely fantastic it was to see me back in my element. I’d left the Rocky sports department two years previous to move the family to the ranch. No more debating whether Pete Rose should be inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame (I said no), or ripping on John Elway or asking callers why they referred to their favorite teams as “we,” as if they were actually playing on the team. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed that in my isolation on the ranch.

It was good to be engaged and although my career has had myriad ups, downs, sideways tossings, gyrations and knifings, I’m doing what I like to and need to be doing. I must remember that when things start feeling overwhelming or when I stick my neck out to get my head chopped off for the thousandth time. The life that has chosen me has got its perks and it’s most certainly where I need to be.