Glamorous

As my mom and I were walking out Wal-Mart the day after Xmas we were approached by a guy in probably his early to mid-20s carrying a reporter's notebook.

He was a reporter for the Chronicle-Tribune and he was doing a story on post-Christmas shopping.

My mom immediately told him I used to be a reporter for the Cincinnati Enquirer, to which he responded with blank stares at us both. (Maybe he thought she meant the National Enquirer.)

Anyway, I felt sorry for the poor sap so we gave him a few quotes about our great bargains. It was in the paper the next day. Here it is.

It was interesting being on the other side of it. Brett is obviously still getting his feet wet in the biz judging by the quotes he used.

Afterwards my mom asked me if I missed it.

Not really, I told her.

My mom has always had the impression that journalism is "glamorous." She always used to say that, "Gina, it's so glamorous. Why would you want to leave?"

Certainly there were occasions when it was fun to slide past everyone else by flashing your press credentials, and I got to do a lot of fun things and eat a lot of great food - for free.

But more often than not I found myself trapped at school board meetings, arguing with city council members, watching people's houses burn down and sometimes watching the dead be loaded in to ambulances after car wrecks.

"Do you think that guy thinks his job is glamorous? Standing the rain in the Wal-Mart parking lot asking people about their holiday bargains," I asked my mom.

"Of course Gina! He got to hear about my $4 pajamas!"

She's funny.

Also funny, this site, Stuff Journalists Like, speaking of journalists.