… seems to be that of a vagabond.
We move around. Heck, I’m on newspaper No. 6, and I haven’t been here three months. And when I look around and see people moving (sometimes, the same names seem to move around a lot, for whatever reason), well, it seems really, really mobile.
Seems we also like booze… and I’ve heard the stories about depression, suicide and divorce among our ranks. Supposedly, journalists have among the highest rates of those things. I haven’t had the ambition to confirm those things, so I’ll rely on anecdotal evidence and hearsay (some call it “rumors and small children”) until I’m challenged otherwise. But that’s another post, or several of them, for another day.
There are good and bad things about moving around in this business. The good things include the addition of talent (if you can call ME “talent”), but the bad things include the subtraction of institutional memory. (One thing that helps me here in Dee-troit City is that I’m a devotee of Dee-troit Iron, thanks to growing up around the car biz, so anytime there’s a car in the paper, I’m on it like a hobo on a ham sammich. Hey, how many newsies know the 360 V-8 in a ‘79 Jeep Wagoneer isn’t a Chrysler engine? Or care?)
Anyway, I’m on newspaper no. 6. I’m hoping to settle down at SOME point. I have to admit, I’ve been spending a little bit of time lately unpacking and moving furniture… someone very close to me (close enough to me to be able to read my mind and anticipate my thoughts and actions) has been teasing me that I’ve been “nesting.”
“Nesting” sounds like something a married couple does, especially when they find out they’re having a child. Me, nesting? Sounds like… ugh. I don’t want to think about it. Someone go grab me a beer, OK? I need to sit down for this one.
Truth be told, I’m not ready to “nest.” While I admit I like walking around Ikea, I have some unsettled business to take care of first. I want to settle in and establish a groove at work. I want to find time to reconnect with old friends up north (remember, I was in Florida long enough to get in a habit of not seeing those folks regularly anymore).
I wonder where the journey will take me. Is this my last stop? (If so, hey, the real estate is cheap.) What’s out there? Where’s the crystal ball when I need it? Dammit, I’d love to know what’s coming. But then again, if you’re reading this, chances are, you’ve had the same feelings. So spill already, and don’t leave me hanging out here looking like an incoherent nut.
I’m not going to disagree with you. This is my fourth state since August of 2004. I mean, this is what I’ve signed up for in all honesty (I really needed more experiences in my life) but it doesn’t make it any easier.
Finding the right combination of area and job helps.