Category: Mon Valley Miscellany || By

When I interviewed for a job at the Daily News in the fall of 1997, suburban editor Dave Fennessy asked me a standard question: "Where do you see yourself in 10 years?"

"I'd like to be editor of a little weekly newspaper someplace," I said.

Well, I jinxed myself. For whatever reason --- perhaps I didn't get out of the way fast enough --- last week, almost 10 years to that fateful day, I was named the editor of our official weekly newspaper where I work.

Seriously, God, this is really funny and all, but I was thinking more along the lines of the Claysville Weekly Recorder or the Bentleyville Times.

I don't like to talk about work too much here. Suffice to say it's a promotion, and I'm very honored and a little bit intimidated. I'd make some joke here about the fact that I've had to change my underpants several times this week, but I haven't. It was all scared right out of me when I got the news.

People keep asking me if I "like it so far." Ask me if (when! I mean when!) the paper actually goes out the door on time.

Anyway, right now I'm shoveling copy as fast as I can, and I have two freelance jobs that are due this week, plus a big article I'm working on for PBRTV. (It never rains, but it pours.)

As another Daily News editor, the late Marie Havrilla, once told me: "If they strapped a broom to your a--, you could sweep the floor while you walk."

So if the Almanac is sucking this week (more than usual, I mean), I hope you, gentle reader, will understand. There just isn't a whole lot left in the tank right now.

By next week, I'll either have found my groove and life will settle down, or I'll be pumping gas at Tyke's Gulf on Greensburg Pike.

Or possibly I'll be rocking back and forth and finger-painting at Hillside Psychiatric Clinic.

One way or another, things should be back to normal (or what passes for them) at the Almanac.

But if entries next week look like they've been finger-painted, at least you'll know where to find me. And if you visit, bring me tapioca pudding. That's my favorite.

. . .

(P.S.: As always, opinions expressed at Tube City Almanac are not those of my employers or any organizations with which I might be affiliated. And the nurses who bring my meds agree.)