I know I’ve been bee-busy as a travel-sized journalist now for two of my two and-a-half years, but I have a new confession for you. It’s with a modicum of shame and against a heft of parental advice I admit all this, but I feel I must.
First of all, I don’t know what it means, let alone can I even say the word of what it is I do for a living. Journalist. It’s a mystery wrapped in a puzzle, wrapped in a conundrum, wrapped in a very, very complicated word.
I could be a file clerk and probably know how to say that, heck, I might even learn what it is I’m supposed to be doing. Sadly, I’ve yet to learn the Alphabet Song, so I’m ill-qualified to take such a lofty post. How’s that song go again?
But I’m a journalist in a family of journalists and photojournalists, or so I’m told.
- I know that interesting strangers are always telling me their opinions, but I still don’t know why.
- I know the elderfolks are always snapping mad photos at me to what I’m now told is the tune of over 3000 per year. I’ve never known why the forbidden toy of parental exclusivity has so long flashed in my direction, but I do know it always does… Does it have a crush on me and the brothers or what’s the deal?
- I also know we get to go to every and all kinds of top-notch events in our area, and kind of all the time. I assumed my parents are obscenely wealthy, but there’s a tag around my neck marked “press” and I’m hard-pressed to tell you why.
- Lastly, I know Daddy-O spends a fair amount of time in PhotoShop working up pictures of me and the brothers. They’re handsome as a Depp when he’s done, and I watch them go into syndicated news stories. I even recognize all the people in the pictures, but the why of it all continues to escape the heck out of me, assuming heck can be escaped from such a thing as me.
But all these factoids still don’t add up for me any more than 2+2, an equation I’m likewise baffled to unravel. I’m sure I do something for a living, as sure as I am that I spend my day living it, whatever “it” may be, but I’m still scribbling a blank.
Should you ascertain whatever it is that I do, don’t you hesitate to bring me into that loop. Should you likewise suffer this same or similar degree of professional confusion, rest easy in the knowledge that ‘re so very far from alone. And, in very good company at that, I’d dare say.