By the time we’ve made it, we’ve had it.
– Malcolm Forbes
I had lunch last week with several retired school teachers, and they were very nice, very kind and much too young to be retired.
One even confided that her son was a photographer who used to work with me here at The Chronicle many years ago and that he really enjoyed it.
“So did I!” I told my hosts, and I told them why.
Almost 40 years ago, I said, her son (whom I won’t identify in case his pastor is reading) and I were dashing young journalists always looking for big stories. Because we lacked seniority, we didn’t get assigned many “big” stories but were frequently sent out to get “man on the street” interviews.
Here’s how that worked: A grizzled old editor would give us some topic of the day, say Watergate or gas prices or Jimmy Carter’s latest stumble, and we would begin canvassing the town looking for people to comment. I would write down their quotes and my associate would take their picture. Then we came back to the newsroom and put it all together.
Well, as our editor soon discovered, whenever he sent two dashing young bachelors out to get “man on the street” quotes, what he got were several dozen photos of young women responding to the topics.
“Don’t you two ever find any men eating lunch?” he asked.
“Nope,” we said.
But we were very diligent about accuracy when it came to the young women, insisting that we also get their phone numbers in case there were any follow-up questions.
LOST & FOUND: Becky Jenkins says this about my Sunday comments on looking for lost stuff:
“I spend only a few minutes trying to find it, because usually it will turn up by itself. The exception is when I really need to find the item quickly – then I say a prayer … It’s amazing how many things turn up when I ask God to help me find them!”
TODAY’S JOKE: Here’s one shared by Seth Benson, of Millen:
Father Murphy was playing golf with a parishioner. On the first hole, he sliced into the rough. His opponent heard him mutter, “Hoover!” under his breath. On the second hole, the ball went straight into a water hazard. “Hoover!” again, a little louder this time.
On the third hole, a miracle occurred and Father Murphy’s drive landed on the green only six inches from the hole! “Praise be to God!” he exclaimed.
He carefully lined up the putt, but the ball curved around the hole instead of going in.
By this time, his opponent couldn’t withhold his curiosity any longer and asked why he said “Hoover.”
“Well,” said the pastor, “it’s the biggest dam I know.”