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.
For one thing, many people have claimed to plan their weekend around the notices in the Post, but they wish they had a little more advance notice than Thursday (or sometimes Friday). Now you have two extra days. For another thing, the supermarkets in the area couldn’t make their schedule fit the Post’s to inform you on their sales and specials. And since nearly everyone buys groceries, the Post figured making its schedule fit the supermarkets would be easier for all involved. For a third thing, the time it takes the Post to go from production to press is a lot faster. The new deadline for your contributions is 9 a.m. Friday morning for the Tuesday issue.
Now, to make it almost too convenient, the Post has just opened up its Living Room at the corner of Highway 49 and Wolf Road at the Bear River Junction. Why “Living Room”? Because that’s just what it is. Jill and I had been working out of my living room so long, we figured if it ain’t broke, why fix it? So we invite you—yes, you—to come visit sometime.
Eventually the Post will start selling coffee (the good stuff, naturally) but first there’ll have to be a counter built, and the Health Department will have to check it out, and there’ll have to be warning labels on the cups which say “Careful: Contents hot!” in case someone spills coffee on their crotch and decides to sue. The things you gotta do to be hospitable these days.
As always, if you’ve got something interesting and publishable, give me a ring at 268-3420.
—Kent Leslie, managing editor
Update, 9/3/2009: Jill was trying to get advertising accounts with the local supermarkets, and found that they wanted to get their ads out on Tuesday. So she decided to push the Thursday issue back till Tuesday. Without notice.
“We have to announce this first,” I told her. “If people don’t see the Post this Thursday, they’ll think we’ve folded.”
But Jill figured this was a minor concern, compared to the sweet, sweet advertising money that would be pouring in from the grocery stores. So she got a commitment from Alta Sierra Market, rearranged our due date with the printer, and the next Post came out five days late. We did get a few worried calls, but not enough to make Jill worry. I was more anxious than she was.
The other major change this week was our new office. I had recommended to Jill that we get a public location as soon as we could afford one. Producing the paper out of my living room was fine to begin with, but once you had a visible physical location, people will come to the conclusion that you’re seriously determined to produce a newspaper—you’re not just some fly-by-night operation… running out of someone’s living room. Jill agreed, and quickly found an office in the Bear River Junction, a strip mall attached to a convenience store and gas station. It certainly was nice and visible, but it was much too much space. We could fit our offices in the back, but that left a huge front entry room that was completely vacant. Jill figured we could eventually turn it into a coffeehouse, but meanwhile, she found a peach-colored couch at a yard sale, bought it, and put it in the front room. Then she added a coffee table. Guests were invited to wait there. Interviews were held there. Jill’s kids (my cousins) hung out there when school let out. Frequently it turned into their living room.
The coffeehouse idea was brilliant—it would have been a great way to interact with the public more—but sadly nothing came of it. I would have been its best customer.