Jest for Fun
Believe it or not, it celebrates its 18th birthday this month. In lieu of a cake, I’ve given this zany column some serious thought. And I’ve decided to entomb it, inter it, and basically lay it to rest. (Thank you, Thesaurus.com.)
There are a number of reasons for this. For starters, it’s gotten harder to come up with new stuff to write about each week. True, I never touched on mountain climbing, but I covered family feuds and my battle with the bulge ad nauseam.
Somewhere along the line, it also seems to have lost its edge. Assuming it had one to begin with, I mean. In truth, being drop-kicked from several newspapers threw me into a tailspin from which I haven’t yet recovered. And because reasons tend to come in threes, I offer a third excuse: lack of time. My recent return to full-time employment pushed my column obligation to weekends, which were already packed to begin with.
I discussed these issues with my better half, also known as Dan the man, who encouraged me to bid it a fond farewell. This, despite it bringing him local fame. (Or was that infamy?)
No doubt some will be relieved to see my mug disappear from this newspaper. Even faithful readers must be tired of that thing. I know I am. I’ll miss my byline though.
At the risk of sounding like an Academy Award winner, I feel a deep need to thank a few folks, not the least of which is my dear husband. Dan gave his blessing to every column I wrote, even the ones that broadcast our spats.
I’m also grateful to our son, Kelly. He not only inspired many articles but served as proofreader the past few years to save me from making a complete spectacle of myself.
A very special thanks goes out to my editors for allowing me the privilege of appearing in their newspapers. And sending me a check, to boot.
Last but far from least, I’m grateful to those who’ve read this column on a regular basis. Some of you probably know me better than I know myself.
And to those who took time to contact me, I thank you most sincerely.
It’s been a real hoot sharing the past 18 years with you. Come to think of it, maybe that calls for a birthday cake after all.