I didn’t realize it had been that long. Not until I counted up all the years. More than 24. Dating back to … can it be?!? 1998. Wow.
Remember that year? So long ago? Google was founded. Bill Clinton was doing things in the White House that you shouldn’t do in the White House. The Spice Girls were pretty darn popular. What a year!
It was also when I first started writing this “Life in a Nutshell” column for the St. Augustine Record, and kept it going, uninterrupted, for 24 years. Fifty-two a year. More than 1,200 in total. That’s nearly 1 million words. Wait, do the math again … yep. I’ve written almost 1 million words in this little weekly column.
How are there still tips on my fingers? Maybe that’s why I have the calluses, and my pinky is like a crooked twig.
Now, 24 years later, I’m sad to say I’m writing the final one for The Record.
Farewell, farewell.
Hey, all good things come to an end. It happens. Things change, and they’re making changes. I mean, Google’s still here, but do we really listen to The Spice Girls anymore? Well, some of us do.
I’ve been lucky to get to do this for so long. It’s been a privilege, really. A wonderful opportunity.
In more than 1,200 columns I’ve been able to do something I love: share stories. About my life. About my marriage. My daughter – chronicling her as she’s grown up. About my animals – the dogs, the cats, the chickens. Family. A 100-year-old house. A yard that has swallowed me whole countless times, and thankfully spit me out every time. Trips. Milestones. Ailments. Additions. Grand prognostications. Foolish observations. And to this day, the only known use of the saying, “Open up a can of dumb-dumb.” Come to think of it, I’m not sure I ever used it in this column. Good thing I get one more …
I’ve done things in a small-town newspaper that I never thought possible. From these pages I won 8 Florida Press Club awards for commentary. (Don’t ask me what the judges were drinking!) Even more remarkable, one year I took home second place from the National Society of Newspaper Columnists in their humor writing category. I’ve done radio commentaries and seen my work picked up by newspapers around the state, and even further. For a while I taught a class on Opinion Writing at Flagler College, where I work full-time, and even penned a section on commentary for a book on college journalism.
Along the way, this column encouraged me to encourage others: To find their voice. To take a stand. To not be afraid to speak up. I heard the great Pulitzer Prize-winning columnist Connie Schultz once say, “Speak your mind, even if your voice shakes.” How true.
It’s really been such a joy.
Or … most weeks.
People often ask if it’s hard to come up with an idea and write a new column week in and week out.
“Hard?” I said. “Pshaw. No, not really ‘hard’ per se. More like … excruciating. Terrifying. Like a root canal without novocaine. That’s what it’s like writing a column week in and week out.”
You never know what your next idea will be, or when it will come. Or if it does, whether it will be any good. For instance, do you know how many times I’ve sat at my desk the morning a column is due and thought, “Could I turn out 900 words on the theme of … pasta?”
Would it be any good? Could I get it done in time? Will people read it, and will they care? Will it resonate? Will it matter? Will it mean something to someone?
But somehow over the years, many of the stories seemed to resonate. Mainly because they were about everyday universal things that we all experience. Something we could all share a laugh over because we’d all been there.
I’ve always kind of lived by a mantra: Laugh to keep from crying. It’s like a guiding light for me. An anchor. A safe port in stormy seas. Because things happen to us, right? Unpleasant things. Embarrassing things. Frustrating things. Stupid things. The kind of things that make us look in the mirror and ask, “Are you one of the two dumbest people in the world? You looked right at that rusty nail and somehow you STILL stepped on it!”
We all do it. And in times like those, a good laugh at my own expense (along with 17 tetanus shots) could always get me through it. It was cathartic. Calming. Rejuvenating. And when I shared those moments – commiserated with others – we could all share the laugh together. We didn’t feel so silly anymore. Because we weren’t alone.
The most embarrassing thing I ever wrote about? Probably a toss-up between the time I got electrocuted after accidentally snipping the chord of a backyard fountain while trimming weeds or the time I was drinking a beer with my daughter on my lap and she jerked her head just as I took a sip from the bottle. Sheared the tips right off my front teeth.
Why did I share that? Laugh to keep from crying, I guess.
My favorite column? The time my daughter and I freed a lightning bug from a spider’s web while we were sitting next to a North Carolina stream and enjoying a fire.
So many memories stored up in those columns.
This doesn’t mean it’s over. Afterall, this column has always lived another life here online at www.nutshellcity.com. I’ll probably take a little break and then figure out something else to do on here. So, keep an eye out and stop by.
But for now, I guess these fingertips will get a break. For the first time in 24 years, I won’t have to startle myself awake on a Monday morning screaming, “I DIDN’T START MY COLUMN!!! I’M GONNA’ HAVE TO WRITE ABOUT PASTA!”
Twenty-four years. Wow! Not sure how I ever turned out so many words. How I could dream up so many ideas. How I could share so many embarrassing moments. And … whether my fingertips can stop now. Probably not.
So for now, I’ll just say, “farewell, farewell,” and thank you for reading.