On January 4, 2017, my first column for the Headlight Herald was published. I was so excited to write it that the thing took up nearly half of the page.
Why excited? That should be obvious — I had just landed my dream job. Why so long? I’m still not entirely sure, but the good news was that Seth was able to squeeze in a column of his own on that page about the transition the Headlight was making; a couple years later, Seth retired, Tara and I got behind the wheel, and we’ve been steering the ship ever since.
The reason I bring this up is because the “There Ya Go” column you are reading at this very moment is my 500th. Fear not, it won’t be the 3,000-word novel I kicked out all those years ago.
Five-hundred. It’s a milestone number, for sure. And 2017 was a long time ago. Our sports pages in the Jan. 4 edition that year featured names like Kaylee Kirk, Evy Dolan, Syd Lanoue, Anthony Axford, Nash Meyer, Sam Bauer, Spencer Smith, Matt Timmerman and Fritz Landherr. Smith was recognized for breaking the school’s single-game scoring mark in that edition and would go on to score more than 2,000 career points; who knew a number of years later that his little brother would surpass 2,000 points as well?
And thinking about the number 500 reminds me how lucky I am. Yes, that sounds cliché, but clichés are clichés because they’re true. I am blessed.
I was born in Tracy. I went to kindergarten here, then grade school, then high school, where even though my lobbying for the creation of a C honor roll failed miserably, it gave me many great memories — mostly in sports, but still.
After high school, it was off to SSU (yep, I’m that old that it was SSU when I matriculated there). But something happened before I even had the chance to get lost for the first time looking for my first 101 class: I started my job at the Independent. It took me all of a few days to realize that’s where I wanted to be. That, if I may use some religious parlance, was my calling.
Some college freshmen miss classes because they’re hungover; I missed classes because I wanted to work. Some college students seemed to be borderline alcoholics; I turned into a workaholic.
I even toyed with the idea of dropping out so I could work more hours and get moving up the ladder quicker, but mom and dad probably wouldn’t have let me. That would’ve been ironic since it was my mother who pointed out the “help wanted” ad in the Independent looking for a part-time sportswriter.
Teenagers don’t put much stock in the phrase, “If you love what you do you never work a day in your life,” but looking back, I am living proof. I truly love 95% of what I do — the other 5% consists of covering things like fires and car accidents; those events are never fun.
I’ve written what I think are some very solid columns over the years, and I’ve written some that fall on the other end of the spectrum, too. Five hundred is a lot, and full disclosure, I’d be lying if I told you all that I put 110% into all of them. Sometimes, you just don’t have it.
I call my good ones home runs; the others I refer to as doubles, or even popups. But even if they haven’t all been dingers, I hope I’ve at least had some kind of effect on you. I hope some columns made you laugh, and others made you think. I know not everyone has agreed with all my words and thoughts I’ve put on this page for the last nine-plus years — and I know all too well that I’ve lost some relationships along the way because of my words — but as my former boss at the Independent used to say, “If you’re not pissing someone off, you’re not doing your job!”
Now, that’s not to say that’s my goal when I start pounding the keyboard, but there is some truth in that statement. Columns, I firmly believe, are a vital part of every newspaper. Columns like the ones you see on this page every week bring opinions, thoughts and insight to any number of topics. More importantly, they bring personality to a paper. There have been times when as I write, the voice in my head whispers, “Someone isn’t going to like this,” but I can’t let that prevent me from cramming my opinion down your throats.
Plus, you don’t have to read it. But if you do and you don’t agree with me, that’s perfectly fine. If everyone agreed with everything others say, what a boring world this would be.
There was a line in that first column of mine that referenced my future. I wrote that neither Seth nor I knew what our respective futures would look like.
That was a lie. I knew, and 499 columns later, here I am.
So, there ya go. And from the bottom of my heart, thank you for reading!
