Behind the Headlines

jacob espinoza Says:

1. September 19th, 2007 at 9:34 pm edit“Then, with the aplomb of a prima balleriina, she pulled a silver dollar from her purse and set it spinning atop the beer-and-saliva-stained bar.
   “Gimme another, Sam!” she bellowed at the barkeep.
   The words still were hanging in the air when a sweaty long-neck was slammed down before her, catching the eye of a dry-mouthed, sweaty longshoreman who leered from across the room.
   Undaunted, she picked up the bottle and, in what seemed a single motion, removed the cap with her teeth and quaffed the contents without stopping.
   She wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her kimono, smiled wryly and tottered off the stool.
   ‘Cuse me,” she said. “I have to go castrate some animals.”
   Everyone gave her a wide berth as she strode out the door.
   One she had disappeared into the night, someone had the guts to ask the question that was on everyone’s mind: “Is that the gal that writes all that crap on The Evening News blog?”
   The silence spoke volumes.”

Aside from the bellowing and such, Mr. Espinoza brings up something - albeit a little differently than I was wanting to approach it - I’ve been thinking a bit about lately. (No, not a sweaty longneck or a leering longshoreman.)

The public and private life of a reporter. Tuesday morning when I was on my way to work I got a flat tire on the freeway. A bit of a fluke since I never take the freeway to work, but there I was, stranded since I couldn’t get the lug nuts off. A truck from Jim’s Towing came to assist and I wondered if when I turned over my card, he would recognize my name. (Anyone familiar with the forums a month or two ago will recall an extended discussion on Jim’s Towing and an alleged misdeed that was vehemently denied and subsequently never proven.) I don’t mean that in the celebrity kind of way, but in the oh, so that’s who she is, kind of way.

I also wonder about it when I’m out shopping in the community and hand over my debit card, particularly when I’m looking rather haggard. Or in instances like last week when a guy was riding around on a jet ski on the lake and it died. His dad was going up and down the street looking for anyone who may be able to help. He waited on the shared breakwall, while my neighbors and I looked through a scope, keeping his drifting son in sight. Once the Coast Guard was called, I had to tell the dad I worked for the newspaper and would have to ask him some questions.

Yesterday, a knock on the door was another neighbor, asking if he could put a political sign in my yard. No way, I told him. I hadn’t even considered if it was a candidate I would support, it just isn’t an option either way.

On the flip side, being a reporter lets me in places and allows me to ask people intimate questions I would never dream of asking without the press pass. Even at parties or social gatherings, if I come across someone interesting it probably ends up sounding more like an informal interview than small talk.

Good or bad, it just doesn’t turn off. That’s my perspective on it. But it makes me wonder - do other people think of this? If you were to meet me or another newspaper person whose name you see but not their face, in a non- professional setting, would it be like anything else? What if the person in the crowd you were talking to just happened to be a reporter?