Chopped liver

Sometimes I feel completely unnecessary around here.

I thought being the editor of local newspaper had a little, just a little status associated with it, but I’m constantly reminded that I’m about as important as the potted plants.

This morning I hear our staff members talking about a couple incidents that occurred yesterday afternoon. Something about cop cars and guns drawn at the IREC and Portside.

My ears perk up. “What?” I yell from my office. “Guns drawn? Why didn’t I hear about this??!!”

Turns out the call came in yesterday afternoon when I was engaged in really important activities: Taking pictures of the Onamia girls’ basketball team. The call went to Rob, who tried to get EVE to cover it. EVE, OUR 16-YEAR-OLD INTERN!!!

(Rob was preoccupied, but what else is new?)

COPS HAVE DETAINED PEOPLE ON SCHOOL PROPERTY AND GUNS HAVE BEEN DRAWN? AND YOU DIDN’T CALL ME???

I HAVE A CELL PHONE! THE NUMBER IS 218-820-3649! WHEN NEWS HAPPENS, CALL ME FIRST!!!!

When Merit burned a couple weeks ago, I was the last one to know. Diane Gibas was there, Linda Becker was there, Jamie Root-Larsen called ROB (for Pete’s sake! not ROB!), while I’m at home taking a leisurely tubby bath, brushing my teeth, eating my oatmeal, kissing the children goodbye…

I’m the editor of the local paper, for crying out loud! When news happens, I’m supposed to be the first one to know! I should be on speed dial! My red phone should be jumping off the hook!

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