See you next year.

Originally published in Countryside Post, Issue 1.16.

I know, I just know, that no matter how many warnings I put into this issue, some people are gonna call the Post's office next Tuesday and say, “I didn't get my copy this week.” And the funny part is that some of them will have read all of those warnings and will have just forgot it was coming. That's okay; I do that too. You tend to forget a few things after a week. It's just a sign that we're all slowly slipping into a nice, comfortable senility. (That may sound bad, but I actually welcome senility: that way, I won't be expected to remember everything as much as I am now.)

You may not be used to newspapers taking a week off for Christmas. Like I keep saying, the Post does everything a little bit different. Part of it is because Jill and I want to spend time with our families; part of it is because our advertisers blew all their money on Xmas ads and can't afford to advertise until New Year's—and they subsidize the Post, you know. Actually, I suspect they really can afford to advertise; they probably just want a vacation after the Xmas rush. Well, I don't blame them. I want one too. So I'm outa here.

About BASC.

Originally published in Countryside Post, Issue 1.15.

There’s a meeting this Thursday at high noon in the Post’s Living Room: the first meeting of the Business Association of South County. It’s somewhat appropriate that the meeting is being held at the Post; and not just because Jill is one of BASC’s promoters.

Y’know, it’s often said that a town isn’t a real town unless it has a newspaper; and though south Nevada County is not a proper town, it is a proper community, and as such should organize community-promoting things. We have concerned citizens groups, and now a newspaper. As this area grows—and, like it or hate it, growth is inevitable unless people stop producing children—it makes sense to create a local business association.

Respecting opinions.

Originally published in Countryside Post, Issue 1.14.

People are still talking about the hate mail we got in issue 1.10—to me, it’s old news, but some people have yet to put in their two cents about it, and when they meet me, they do. Some of them, unfortunately, end the conversation with, “Well, you gotta respect a person’s right to have an opinion.”

I hate that saying, because it’s not true. Few really respect any opinions other than their own. Any other opinions are worthless unless they agree with it. And if you’re under 30 or “inexperienced,” you don’t know any better, so shut up and let your elders talk. (Being under 30, I deal with this attitude constantly.)

Wait a week…

Originally published in Countryside Post, Issue 1.13.

Last week was a bit too soon for me to announce “The Countryside”—which was where we were gonna stick a bunch of neat stuff, such as ancedotes and photos from people in our countryside. The first one will be in the next issue.

The delay is my fault. Regular features need development time, and Thanksgiving kinda got in the way. Besides which, I’m sure all of you were too busy with Thanksgiving preparations to even think of sending stuff to the paper.

Being thankful.

Originally published in Countryside Post, Issue 1.12.

The front-page quote is from Franklin Roosevelt’s Thanksgiving proclamation, in the year he moved it. Originally Abraham Lincoln, who proclaimed the first Thanksgiving Day in 1863, set it on the last Thursday in November. Roosevelt moved it to the fourth Thursday—a subtle change, but three years out of seven it means an extra week of Christmas shopping. Be glad it’s where it is, or the Xmas season would start after Halloween.

So what are you thankful for? Me, I’m thankful for a good past three months at Countryside Post. I’m thankful that many of you like it so far, and that you’re contributing—contributions have been downplayed in the news biz over the last 11 decades, and though it’s not a new idea, it’s not put into practice much. I’m also thankful that many of you are overcoming your shyness in order to send things in. Some people are way too critical of their writing ability. Don’t worry; it’s my job to make you sound good.

Dealing with mail.

Originally published in Countryside Post, Issue 1.11.

Jill has been speculating all bloody week about who Yvonne Wright might be. Since Ms. Wright stuffed her letter in the Post’s mailbox and left, without the courtesy of including a number nor address, and since no one we know knows her, I’ve been referring to her as “Ms. Wright—if that is her real name.” It probably is.

Jill just wants to know how on earth we managed to tick her off so much. I don’t speculate on things like that. It’s a waste of time. I expect hate mail in the course of this job—there is always going to be someone you rub the wrong way, no matter how much you try to do everything right. If she had a legitimate concern, and presented it as constructive criticism, I would address the problem and see if I could solve it. But she had neither, so that’s that.

Big dead animals.

Originally published in Countryside Post, Issue 1.10.

In this space I often mention the complaints Countryside Post gets, and I apologize for them. This week, I'm offering no apologies for something we ran. Young David Martin shot his first deer recently and proudly submitted a picture of it to the Post, and we ran it on page 5 last week.

Since then we've received five phone calls from people who, for various reasons, do not wish to see dead animals in their paper. I can understand where they're coming from; deer are cute and friendly and it's not nice to see one of God's creatures butchered like that. On the other hand, we've been running pictures of dismembered animals in our supermarket ads… but then again, deer have better publicity. Disney never made a cartoon about a baby cow.

News sometimes isn't pretty. Sometimes it's horrible. Take that horse some psychos set on fire the day before Halloween. We almost ran a photo of it. Why? Because it was news. Insane behavior, when it affects other people, is news. I prefer good news, but sometimes the public has to know bad stuff whether they like it or not.

Slow growth issues.

Originally published in Countryside Post, Issue 1.9.

If this issue seems to have a lot of ads, it’s ’cause it does. As you know, the reason you get Countryside Post free is because advertising pays for everything.

That’s the way newspapers work. Even the ones who take subscriptions work that way—in their case, subscriptions just pay for the cost of circulation. In the Post’s case, we eat that cost. That’s partly because I believe that news is free and should remain so—if you’re gonna call news-reporting "a public service," it’s not public if you charge for it—and because if you circulate to everyone, you’re not so dependent on circulation figures that you have to resort to harebrained schemes to increase circulation. Nor do you have to appeal to "the nobility of journalism" or being "the voice of the community" in order to get customers. That’s a load of bull dooky anyway, and we all know it. Advertisers want numbers, and if we circulate to everyone, we got ’em.

The 𝘗𝘰𝘴𝘵 endorses…

Originally published in Countryside Post, Issue 1.8.

…nobody. Countryside Post will not exaggerate the solitary opinion of the editor or publisher by labeling it the opinion of the paper. That’s as it should be.

It isn’t easy bottling your opinions. Especially for me. Seven years of writing editorials makes it second-nature to generate opinions at the drop of a hat. I won awards for them, believe it or don’t. But most people already have their mind made up, so what good are my two cents? The only way I could add to a discussion would be to tell them something they didn’t know. In other words, write news.

So we did, or tried to. This election the Post sent out questionnaires. To date, only Lorraine Jewett-Burdick and Todd Juvenal ever got back to us in time. In the interest of fairness I decided not to publish their responses since there was no equal comment from their opponents. I apologize for wasting their time.

Who am I? Why am I here?

Originally published in Countryside Post, Issue 1.7.

I used that quote from Admiral James Stockdale (you might remember the 1992 vice-presidential debate) to describe this column. I never really explained what it is. I assumed the title “Letter from the Editor” would tell you that it was a letter from the editor—not an editorial, nor an opinion piece. Basically, it’s meant to tell you some of Countryside Post’s behind-the-scenes stuff; stuff that doesn’t ordinarily work its way into articles but are kinda informative anyway.

I know, it’s something you’ve not seen in other newspapers before. That’s how we do things around here. Since the only thing editors seem to write anymore are editorials, some of you assumed this was an editorial. It’s an honest mistake. For someone who’s supposed to be responsible for some good balanced reporting, editors are awfully opinionated fellas, aren’t they? Wouldn’t newspapers improve dramatically if the person on top was the least opinionated?

Some cheese with your whine?

Originally published in Countryside Post, Issue 1.6.

Last week I was on the verge of gushing as I wrote about the people who just love their little paper. This week, the other side of the story. Some have complained that the Post covers too much school stuff and they want to see some articles about south county property development. Some have complained that the Post is, by publicizing Lake of the Pines events, encouraging undesirables to enter their gated community. (Tell the people who send us press releases, okay?) Some have complained that all the news is too “soft,” or “fluffy,” or “happy,” and that they want crime news, or government corruption news, or investigative pieces.

Those are the problems. Here's the solution. Unlike other newspapers, the Post publishes contributions from its public. If you contribute articles about the things you're interested in, you'll see them in the Post. Complaining won't get you anywhere; action will. But in my experience, most complainers are just whiners, and whiners are all talk. God forbid you should actually do something—there'd be nothing to whine about!

Anyway, keep sending those articles to the Post. We still publish everything you'd like to contribute—even whining.

Your little paper.

Originally published in Countryside Post, Issue 1.5.

Lots of people have said they love “your little paper,” and I haven’t been quick enough to remind them it’s their little paper, so I apologize. Response has been very positive. One wasn’t; some fellow wasn’t getting his Foothill Trader and called the Post, of all things, to complain. He said he liked the Trader better, which I’m sure the Trader would be just thrilled about if only he had called them. Guess the Post doesn’t have enough ads. We’re working on it.

Some discussions have dealt with my editorial philosophy; seems people have noticed the Post isn’t like other papers, and not just ’cause it’s small, comes in the mail and doesn’t carry canned news. A lot of that has to do with my religious convictions about what’s right to print and what isn’t. I didn’t get a B.A. in theology for the heck of it, you see. (Okay, I did. But if you seriously believe something, it ought to change the way you do things. Otherwise you’re a hypocrite.) Some of it has to do with what I did before I went back to college; when I worked for other papers and said to myself, “If I ran a paper, I’d do it this way.” Well, now I do.

My philosophy is complex, but I’ll tell you this much: there are a lot of people who confuse freedom of the press with freedom from responsibility for what they say and who it affects. I don’t. I hope you readers keep me accountable to that. Heavy part over.

Speed bump.

Originally published in Countryside Post, Issue 1.4.

Every once in a while you hit a “slow news week,” where there’s nothing to report on but Presidential scandals, and the Post won’t write about that, which makes the week slower. Isn’t this an election year? Isn’t the public supposed to be busily sending their local paper letters about how wonderful this or that candidate is? The Post may not endorse anyone, but you certainly can. There are, after all, only four weeks until the election for you to say something. So say something! Mail, e-mail or fax it to the Post.

Change is 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥.

Originally published in Countryside Post, Issue 1.3.

Okay, so change isn’t always good. I’m reminded of the example of “New Coke” a decade ago. The idea made me wonder what Coca-Cola’s executives were really doing with the cocaine they were supposedly extracting from the coca leaves they put in their soda.

Well, the Post didn’t change anything but the day it circulates. Hopefully that won’t traumatize you too much. Especially after a snafu at the phone company caused our number to be disconnected for two days. Half of you probably thought the Post went out of business or something.

I do apologize for not giving you more advance warning. That was a business decision, and as editor, I don’t handle the business; I handle the news. But as far as the news is concerned, I suspect you’ll find the Post’s new schedule more convenient.

Misteaks were made.

Originally published in Countryside Post, Issue 1.2.

About four years ago, at the next-to-last newspaper I edited, we had a horrible number of mistakes one issue. To me, “horrible” is more than two errors, but this was really bad. Dang near spelled my own name wrong.

The next issue, I explained, “Our paper has something for everyone. If you’re the type who isn’t happy unless you have something to nitpick, we have kindly provided you with lots and lots of typos.”

Well, same thing seems to have happened in the last issue of the Post. No surprise; there are always a thousand little annoyances that crop up when it’s a first issue. Jill and I were up until 2 a.m. the night before our deadline, and woke up bright and early at 6 a.m. the next morning to proofread. Even Jill, who sometimes can be the most obnoxious morning person (okay, so I’m a night person) was a zombie that day. You try proofreading on four hours’ sleep. That’s no excuse. That’s an explanation.

The community is invited to join in.

Originally published in Countryside Post, Issue 1.1.

If you’re impressed with this first issue, thank you! If you’re not impressed, well, neither am I. First issues don’t really mean a lot anyway. It’s how they look after about a year or so. There are a lot of things I would have loved to see in this first issue, but the reason they aren’t here is because you all still have to produce them.

Yes, you. Countryside Post will be attempting to live up to the title “community paper” by letting, for once, a community contribute to its local paper. If you think about it, it’s not something you see very often. Many of the people who work at a newspaper often don’t live in the area they cover. Many of them were hired from other towns, and hired not because they know the area, but because they graduated from journalism school. If you’ve ever wondered why a paper gets so out of touch with its readership, that’s why.

I personally am no different, I suppose, but that’s just me. The publisher’s a local. And hopefully, all the Post’s writers—that’s you—will be local. And hopefully you’ll be encouraged to contribute after you see what we’re attempting to start up.