Call it the end of a chapter, the next verse of the song.
But the party is not over yet. There will be no goodbye.
— A verse from a new song I’m writing right now. It’s still a work in progress
How many ways can you write “Hello, I’m the new editor”?
It all started like this with my first publishing assignment 43 years ago: “I’m ready for you, world… is the world ready for me?” sings Kermit the Frog in “The Muppet Movie” on his way to California and Hollywood.
The responsibility of editing a newspaper forces me to ask, “Are you ready? The answer lies in the fact that I am writing this column to answer my questions as well as yours.”
I then jotted down some basic principles that I thought formed the basis of local newspapers. Principles that have not changed since communications became my profession. Like a shared interest in the hopes, fears, happiness and sorrows of a community.
“To report the news – good or bad – comprehensively and objectively, all news without favoritism, is the highest duty of every newspaper, and I fully agree with that goal.”
Similar articles about new publishers in town followed at Boerne, Marlin and Naples before I was back at Center a few years later. When “Hello” took on a different vibe.
This column began with the words, “Over 30 years and a number of publishing stints later, I’m the new editor of an old newspaper.” I used a line from Ben Kweller’s song “Full Circle,” noting that the singer “…enjoys being in the passenger seat because I’ve come full circle.”
“I can’t escape the music of this business,” I wrote. “I’ve left a few times, not necessarily by choice, but rather because I followed my muse. And once again she whispered softly in my ear, singing her hypnotic song: ‘I’m back.'” But I didn’t know that even then she wasn’t finished. That next week I would be “coming home” once again, to the Shelby County newspaper, three years and seven months ago.
But now it’s time to write that other column. That “goodbye” to the church article in the newspaper. How do you say “goodbye” to a church that has always welcomed me with hospitality, appreciation and, above all, respect? Which I appreciate, because my father told me years ago: “…respect and love have two things in common, my son. No one gives you either for free. You have to earn them.”
First, I would like to say, “I thank each and every one of you from the bottom of my heart.” And to the mentors and friends who have opened doors to new opportunities for me along the way, I extend my sincere “thank you.”
But here we deviate from the usual farewell. While this will be my last week as editor and publisher of The Light and Champion, there will be no goodbye from the community that has so warmly embraced the paper during the time I have been fortunate enough to be its steward.
Firstly, I have no plans to leave Center. And secondly, I have spent my whole life following the dream that wear and tear is a far better option than rusting. A feeling that was confirmed by asking my retired friends.
“It’s all fine,” said one. “The only problem with retirement for me is that you never have a day off.”
Another said, “I spend my time trying to do something with the time I’ve been rushing through life trying to save.”
Then someone had the following to say about retirement planning.
“Think of it this way,” he told me. “You should approach retirement like a long vacation in Las Vegas. The goal is to enjoy it to the fullest, but not so much that you run out of money.”
However, the best answer, which I adopted long ago, is: “Being at the end of something should be viewed as being at the beginning of something else.”
What that other will be is just a vision as I cobble these thoughts into my final weekly column, entitled “Editor and Editor.” And with that thought, you can be sure that this weekly column will continue. I can’t stop. For too many years, it’s been my cheap therapy. Writing helps me bring order to the weekly chaos we call life.
Wherever you see me on the street, I will be writing. Not only for the local readers, but also for the few other newspapers and magazines in which my book appears.
And if we don’t see each other by the end of this week, don’t fret. I’ll see you in town. In the meantime, I’ll be working on my new song.
It’s, you know, still a work in progress.
Contact Leon Aldridge at [email protected]. Other columns by Aldridge are archived at leonaldridge.com.
