Columnists
Two Hundred and Eight Months
Today I was thinking about the very first column I wrote for The Wellington Times. It was The Wellington Times back in the olden days for those of you who didn’t know or only know this paper to be The Times. Mr. C. and I met twice to talk about me becoming a columnist for TWT. He suggested we meet in the Cherry Valley Restaurant to discuss my future, as a writer, over coffees. At the time I working for Osprey Media as a photographer. I rarely wrote columns because Osprey had its own roster of writers. I did write the photo captions and sometimes a brief description of the local event at which the images were captured. I, to this day, am not a fan of interviewing people, although Sue did set me up to interview David Broadfoot. For those of you who don’t know, Dave Broadfoot was a Canadian comedian and satirist who was best known for his performances as a member of the Royal Canadian Air Farce. At the time, Mr. Broadfoot had a book coming out and was going to perform at the Regent Theatre. So very Canadian was Mr. Broadfoot that the interview was done on a long distance phone call. I was given a phone number and, as it turned out, my call wasn’t answered by an agent, a secretary or a receptionist because it was his home number and he answered. The olden days were pretty good, sometimes. I figured I didn’t need to interview anyone after interviewing Dave Broadfoot!
Fast forward to October 2022 and here I am writing a column for The Times, sixteen years and eight months after agreeing to a bi-weekly column. The first column I wrote for TWT was Big Boxes Rock my Soxes. My inspiration came from a road trip with a pal who was a former co-worker. Susan R. and I decided to hit the road early one morning and found ourselves heading to Napanee. Neither of us had been there for yonks and thought it would be nice to visit the shops, have some lunch and just enjoy the day. Napanee used to look and feel like a lot of small downtown areas in Ontario. The downtown buildings had tall brick facades that lined the main drag. Stone steps led up to arched doorways that once opened into vibrant businesses with shopkeepers who knew their customers. At one time the sidewalks had been bustling with people out and about, doing their shopping, going to work, heading to the barber shop or the flower shop, picking up the photos at the drugstore, perhaps out to get a gift for a neighbour, meeting for a coffee and a bakery goodie. The day we arrived, it was almost “nothing of the sort”. At that time, if there had been tumbleweed in this part of the province it would have been blowing down the main street of Napanee. And, so my career as a columnist began. I hung the camera up and focused on the keyboard. I rarely get asked to interview people, but I draw much of my inspiration from listening to, and speaking with, friends and family. Occasionally, after telling me a deep political or, heaven forbid, personal secret, a person will say to me, “I don’t want to read about this in The Times.” I usually keep my private conversations “private”.
Sixteen years and eight months freelancing for The Times!Time flies when you’re having fun, or so I’ve heard! But how the H E Double Spaces After a Period did that happen? Sixteen years and eight months! I’ve never before been with an organization for such a length of time. Today I’ve got writing on my mind and reminiscing about columns written. I understand the traditional seventeenth year anniversary gift is one of furniture and imagine I’ll have to buy my own anniversary gift in February of 2023. Maybe I’ll visit my friend Sue, the editor from our Osprey days. She’s in the “find the furniture a new home business” now. I’ll bet she could help. I’m not sure what I’m after, furniture-wise, but I’ve got four months to think about it.
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