Originally published in Countryside Post, Issue 2.7.
By the time you read this, Countryside Post will have moved across Highway 49 to Lake Center near Lake of the Pines, to the space tucked between Round Table Pizza and Hunan Restaurant. Hence the change of addresses in the newspaper.
Now as to why: Jill likes to describe it as a “total business decision.” That’s probably the most accurate way to put it. The rent is better, the foot-traffic promises to be better, and we expect that if the water pipes should ever explode, the landlord will accept liability.
My only concern about moving is that, as a new business, we don’t want to give anyone the idea that we're unstable. We expect to stick around for a long, long time. We want everyone to know where their newspaper is. And just as they were getting used to the idea of the Post being at Bear River Junction, we’ve suddenly moved to Lake Center.
Maybe I shouldn’t be so concerned. About half the people I meet are vaguely aware of the Post, and half of them think the Post is affiliated with the Foothill Trader, simply because they both come through the mail. It reminds me of the old newspaper saying, “Never overestimate—nor underestimate—the intelligence of the public.” Always good advice. In any event, those that read the Post now know we’ve moved, and those that don’t are as ignorant as usual.
…And we’ve also got to change the rate sheets, the business cards, the directory listings… Moving isn’t easy. Being an Air Force brat, I got used to moving. I still don’t like it, but it makes me a whiz at packing and space management. It also means I can live anywhere; Jill was just asking me recently if I miss the city, and I answered, “Sure.” There are a lot of conveniences to city life. There are a lot of conveniences to country life, too, and things I'd miss if I were to move back to the city. I won't list ’em because if your list doesn't match mine, you’ll be forever reminding me of it. (What is it about minor differences of opinion that infinitely aggravates people? Too many of us sweat the small stuff.)
So we’ve moved. So that’s what our newly-vacant office means, in case you stop by, can’t find us, and wonder what happened. We’re still around; we’re still taking contributions; the phone number hasn’t changed, so if you have something to contribute, let me know.
—Kent Leslie, managing editor
Update, 4/17/2010: Our first office was at the Bear River Junction, which is at the intersection of Wolf Road and Highway 49. I had discussed it in September. The idea was that we could turn it into a combination coffeehouse and newspaper office, but the coffeehouse idea went nowhere; Jill didn’t have the time, or really the interest, to get one started. Besides, once the South Nevada County Chamber took off, they wanted to take over the front room.
Well, after the office flooded after some pipes burst, our landlady took a mighty long time to do next to nothing about it. So when a space opened up at Lake Center—a strip mall right outside Lake of the Pines—we moved into it. It was a nice location; right next to the supermarket and hardware store, right between two restaurants, and across the street from my church. The only downside was that it was far away from the video store. But I settled for the other video store, three doors down.
But it was a really cramped workspace. I don’t recall what the place was previously used for, but it consisted of a decent front room (and the South Nevada County Chamber quickly took it over), an okay-sized middle room which became Jill’s office space), a bigger-than-average closet which became where the kids hung out after school (after we put a couch and TV in it), and an oddly-shaped space that became my office space. It really was the width of a hallway. There was no window and the fluorescent overhead lights made me nuts, but we squeezed a desk in, parked my Macintosh Quadra 605 on it, and I started making newspapers.
The Chamber space was quickly taken over by two volunteers, Lou and Pat Sans, a friendly couple who basically greeted everyone for us and kept the coffee and doughnuts coming. God bless ’em, although I really should have eaten far fewer doughnuts than I did.
Anyway, once we switched offices, I stopped wearing suits every day and went casual. Not too casual; I didn’t wear sweats and Simpsons T-shirts like I did at The Dixon Newspaper. Mostly I wore collared shirts and slacks. Sometimes a T-shirt; sometimes jeans. But I was starting to chafe at the folks who insisted that I be more “professional” and less fun, so the attitude started to come out, and the ties started to come off.