Float your boat
I’m sure you all know Oprah Winfrey ended her 25-year reign on afternoon-TV.
She did by entreating her audience to do something they really enjoy, and do it well — entirely within character.
For me I guess it’s writing, what I call “slinging words together.”
Years ago, when I was in high-school 12th-grade, an English-teacher I was intimidated by took me aside and told me “Hughes, you write extremely well.”
I thought him joking.
“But it’s just slinging words together,” I protested.
“But you do that way better than anyone else I’ve seen.”
I didn’t do any writing until my senior year in college, when the college newspaper head-honcho, a student, asked me to report on building renovations.
I turned in a report much like what you’ve read here, full of whacko observation and reflection.
“WOW!” he said. He thereafter lassoed me into writing a biweekly column of the same whacko observation and reflection.
In prior years, that college newspaper published an observatory humor column, so they engaged a couple wannabees to write a similar column after the other guys graduated.
I heard later those grads preferred what I was writing; that the pretenders were lacking.
After college I sold photographs to City/East newspaper in Rochester (now “City.”)
I was trying to become a freelance photographer.
The publisher, a sports-car enthusiast, knowing I was also a sports-car enthusiast, asked if I knew anyone who could write sports-car coverage.
“Well, perhaps I could try it,” I suggested.
So began a three-year sojourn where I covered sports-car motorsport for City/East Newspaper.
But I was editing my stuff to death, killing it.
“Just leave it alone,” my wife suggested. “What you wrote at first was good, and adequate.”
Years later, at the end of a 16&1/2 year career driving bus for Regional Transit, a coworker asked if I could do a voluntary newsletter for our union.
I ran with it; generated a professional-looking newsletter with Microsoft Word.
No time for editing. Just let-er-rip!
We had Transit management terrified.
For once our story was getting in front of the local media, and politicians that funded Transit.
I’d scribble elaborate bus-stories on the back of blank time-sheets on my steering-wheel at layovers.
Then key them in when I got home.
I also attracted a cartoonist.
I’d write the story-line, and he would draw the cartoon.
Our best was the heavy motor-cradle dropping out of a bus on a lift in the Overhaul-shop.
It actually happened, and Transit-management tried to quash it.
Politicians would call our managers asking “What’s going on down there? You told me everything was hunky-dory.”
“Buncha union activists!” they screamed. “Don’t read that stuff!”
My newsletter, and my career driving bus, all ended with my stroke.
Stroke rehab wondered about a post-stroke job. I suggested writing.
They arranged an interview as an unpaid intern at “The Mighty Mezz.”
And so began an 11-year stint at the Messenger.
I later was hired, and even wrote a column for a while.
I also started writing stuff for my family’s web-site, and e-mailing them to a Messenger coworker, Marcy Dewey.
“You really should be blogging this stuff,” she suggested.
And so BlogSpot, where I’ve blogged almost every day for the past five years.
When MPN wanted to start a blog-page, they asked if I could contribute.
So now I do two versions, MPN and BlogSpot. BlogSpot is for nationwide consumption — it has explanatory footnotes.
I gave up my family’s web-site; I tired of all the pontificating and self-celebration.
So now I’m convinced.
My 12th-grade English-teacher was right.
I can sling words together better than most.
I don’t care that I can, I just keep shoveling.
• “Hughes” is me, Bob Hughes, Bobbalew.
• I had a stroke October 26, 1993, from which I pretty much recovered.
• “Regional Transit” equals Regional Transit Service, the public transit-bus operator in Rochester, NY, where I drove transit-bus for 16&1/2 years (1977-1993). My stroke ended that.
• The “Mighty Mezz” is the Canandaigua Daily-Messenger newspaper, from where I retired over five years ago. Best job I ever had — I worked there almost 10 years (11 including the unpaid internship). (“Canandaigua” [“cannan-DAY-gwuh”] is a small city nearby where we live in Western NY. The city is also within a rural town called “Canandaigua.” The name is Indian, and means “Chosen Spot.” —It’s about 15 miles away.)
• “MPN” is Messenger-Post Newspapers, which came into being when the Messenger bought the nine suburban Post weekly newspapers, sold when their publisher retired. Messenger-Post has a web-site, MPNnow.
She did by entreating her audience to do something they really enjoy, and do it well — entirely within character.
For me I guess it’s writing, what I call “slinging words together.”
Years ago, when I was in high-school 12th-grade, an English-teacher I was intimidated by took me aside and told me “Hughes, you write extremely well.”
I thought him joking.
“But it’s just slinging words together,” I protested.
“But you do that way better than anyone else I’ve seen.”
I didn’t do any writing until my senior year in college, when the college newspaper head-honcho, a student, asked me to report on building renovations.
I turned in a report much like what you’ve read here, full of whacko observation and reflection.
“WOW!” he said. He thereafter lassoed me into writing a biweekly column of the same whacko observation and reflection.
In prior years, that college newspaper published an observatory humor column, so they engaged a couple wannabees to write a similar column after the other guys graduated.
I heard later those grads preferred what I was writing; that the pretenders were lacking.
After college I sold photographs to City/East newspaper in Rochester (now “City.”)
I was trying to become a freelance photographer.
The publisher, a sports-car enthusiast, knowing I was also a sports-car enthusiast, asked if I knew anyone who could write sports-car coverage.
“Well, perhaps I could try it,” I suggested.
So began a three-year sojourn where I covered sports-car motorsport for City/East Newspaper.
But I was editing my stuff to death, killing it.
“Just leave it alone,” my wife suggested. “What you wrote at first was good, and adequate.”
Years later, at the end of a 16&1/2 year career driving bus for Regional Transit, a coworker asked if I could do a voluntary newsletter for our union.
I ran with it; generated a professional-looking newsletter with Microsoft Word.
No time for editing. Just let-er-rip!
We had Transit management terrified.
For once our story was getting in front of the local media, and politicians that funded Transit.
I’d scribble elaborate bus-stories on the back of blank time-sheets on my steering-wheel at layovers.
Then key them in when I got home.
I also attracted a cartoonist.
I’d write the story-line, and he would draw the cartoon.
Our best was the heavy motor-cradle dropping out of a bus on a lift in the Overhaul-shop.
It actually happened, and Transit-management tried to quash it.
Politicians would call our managers asking “What’s going on down there? You told me everything was hunky-dory.”
“Buncha union activists!” they screamed. “Don’t read that stuff!”
My newsletter, and my career driving bus, all ended with my stroke.
Stroke rehab wondered about a post-stroke job. I suggested writing.
They arranged an interview as an unpaid intern at “The Mighty Mezz.”
And so began an 11-year stint at the Messenger.
I later was hired, and even wrote a column for a while.
I also started writing stuff for my family’s web-site, and e-mailing them to a Messenger coworker, Marcy Dewey.
“You really should be blogging this stuff,” she suggested.
And so BlogSpot, where I’ve blogged almost every day for the past five years.
When MPN wanted to start a blog-page, they asked if I could contribute.
So now I do two versions, MPN and BlogSpot. BlogSpot is for nationwide consumption — it has explanatory footnotes.
I gave up my family’s web-site; I tired of all the pontificating and self-celebration.
So now I’m convinced.
My 12th-grade English-teacher was right.
I can sling words together better than most.
I don’t care that I can, I just keep shoveling.
• “Hughes” is me, Bob Hughes, Bobbalew.
• I had a stroke October 26, 1993, from which I pretty much recovered.
• “Regional Transit” equals Regional Transit Service, the public transit-bus operator in Rochester, NY, where I drove transit-bus for 16&1/2 years (1977-1993). My stroke ended that.
• The “Mighty Mezz” is the Canandaigua Daily-Messenger newspaper, from where I retired over five years ago. Best job I ever had — I worked there almost 10 years (11 including the unpaid internship). (“Canandaigua” [“cannan-DAY-gwuh”] is a small city nearby where we live in Western NY. The city is also within a rural town called “Canandaigua.” The name is Indian, and means “Chosen Spot.” —It’s about 15 miles away.)
• “MPN” is Messenger-Post Newspapers, which came into being when the Messenger bought the nine suburban Post weekly newspapers, sold when their publisher retired. Messenger-Post has a web-site, MPNnow.
posted by BobbaLew at 12:29 PM
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