I’m ba-a-ack
“What qualifies you for this job?”
It is a fair question. The reporter sounded like he’s all of twenty years old, and he knows my husband, which tells you two things at once: I must be getting old, and no matter how big a city, this is still a Small Town.
I thought of the paper this guy writes for… one of those thin weeklies (mostly advertisements) that inevitably appears at the end of your driveway on a day when it rains, so that you have to scrape up a sodden mass of multi-colored pulp when you go get the mail, vowing to boycott every single one of the advertisers (though their names are no longer legible) and wishing there were some sort of Law.
There were so many ways to answer his question, too. Possibilities ranged from simply repeating the info on the press release he’d already read to an astonished “Who says I’m qualified?”
I also could have held forth on the benefits of having had a liberal arts education, or else quoted the title of a book by Ann Crittenden: “If you’ve raised kids, you can manage anything.”
In the end, though, I had pity on the fellow, who just needed something short and straightforward, to fit a couple of column inches between the ads for rain gutters and exterminators. And decided it was time to get back to blogging!
