Job

Mondays tend to be long days for me. Not only am I catching up on weekend and Friday business, but twice a month, the school board meets several times throughout the day and from 6-? at night. I spend the day running from office to meeting to office to meeting, feeding my belly when I can.

I thought last Monday’s 10 a.m. meeting went until noon, so I didn’t pack a lunch. At the meeting, I noticed the agenda said it went until 3 p.m. Whoops. Fortunately, I always carry granola bars in case of such emergencies.

Back at work, I tweeted about finally eating lunch at 3:30 p.m., with the #journalistdiet tag. Conversation ensued, on Twitter and in real life. What does the stereotypical journalist diet look like?

When you’re busy with meetings, breaking news and late deadlines, who has time to think about food? And — shocker! — journalists aren’t rich enough to eat out for every meal. Food/beverage choices must be made wisely, to reap the most benefits for least cost.

So here’s a sample journalist diet pyramid, drafted in about 20 minutes, based on first-hand observation and interviews with colleagues. (If any of my graphics friends would like to make a better one, go at it.)

Journalist diet pyramid

Convenience foods (6-11 servings): Convenience is king. This level is the base of the journalist diet. All foods are ready to eat or ready to eat in a few minutes, making them optimal food choices when sitting at a desk as well as at the wheel of a car. I once worked with a reporter who I swear only ate Cheetos and drank Mountain Dew. She also never gained weight.

Caffeine (5-6 servings): Some might argue that caffeine should be the base, but remember — these are only suggestions. Many journalists exceed the recommended servings. That’s why Starbucks sells 31 oz cups of coffee. And why I buy the 24 oz cups at the Loaf n’ Jug down the road.

Free baked goods (4-5 servings): Mondays after holidays, birthday parties, are prime times for leftover baked goods to end up in the newsroom. Brownies, cupcakes, cookies — anything people indulged too much in and want out of their house — appear on a table in an open space between editorial and advertising. Act quick — everything’s usually gone within 5 minutes of an office email announcement.

Cake (2-3 servings): Cake appears in the newsroom every other month or so for birthdays, retirements, people moving to other jobs. Even if the newsroom is full of other free baked goods, there’s always room for cake.

Booze (2-3 servings): Reporters don’t keep flasks in their desks these days (unless they’re holding out on me) but most tend to enjoy an adult beverage or several after a long day probing inside others lives, especially if “others” includes child molesters and slimy politicians. It’s not always about getting drunk — I’ve had some of the best conversations with fellow journalists over just one beer or glass of wine.

Election night pizza! The one night of the year when you don’t have to worry about being fed because you’re working all night. For inexplicable reasons, the ordinary Papa John’s or Domino’s becomes the tastiest dinner you’ve had in weeks. Then again, if you’ve been following the journalist diet, it might be.

It is possible to live according to the journalist diet, but I don’t know of any doctors who would recommend it.

Legislative and government reporting accounts for about 10 percent of what I do.

Since this session began, that amount has quadrupled.

Tons of education bills have been introduced, and I covered most of them from the front end with individual stories or a 70-inch legislative preview. From Casper, 2.5 hours away from the Capitol. Now that they’re working their way through both houses, I’ve had more difficulty and had to pass the baton to our statehouse reporters.

But that doesn’t mean I’m done with it. On Monday, I wrapped up a story about national interests lobbying state lawmakers and the public. I broke news on Tuesday after listening to Senate debate through a live audiocast online. I spent much of last week working on two longer pieces — a profile of a teacher/legislator and a bigger take on “teacher tenure” in the state.

When I interviewed for this job, the editor warned me it requires a great deal of reporting via telephone. Good thing I got over my fear of the cold call a long time ago because almost all of my state reporting is done on the phone.

Today’s stories certainly reflect that — records received over the phone,  e-mail and fax machine (!), long chats with a profile subject while he was driving, multiple sources hours away in Cheyenne and Cody. Most of the color came from first-hand observation during committee meetings and my trip to Cheyenne two weeks ago.

Whew, my name fit on the badge. [Wyo. Capitol, Jan. 31]

I happened to be driving through Cheyenne (from my weekend in Colorado) on a Monday morning so I stopped at the Capitol, listened to testimony during a committee meeting, did some interviews and wrote a story before continuing on to Casper. I never thought reporting from Casper was hard, but being in the building where everything happens made it feel so easy. Instead of waiting hours for a lawmaker to return my call, I could send a note to the floor and wait outside.

The capitol reporters are there for the day-to-day stuff, and I’m able to work on more in-depth stuff like today’s teacher-legislature package:
- Tussle over tenure: Few Wyoming teachers challenge dismissals
–> Teachers speak in defense of tenure
- Profile: Harshman teaches, leads in Legislature

A source thanked me last week for doing “more investigative stuff.” I said thanks, but I really owe it to my editors who take an interest in the stories and give me the time and support I need to pursue them.

The morning I left for vacation, my brakes started grinding. It was the Sunday after Christmas — they weren’t going to get fixed before my flight to Denver that night.

I drove the four hours there and back and dropped the car off the next morning.

Fortunately, I found a trustworthy mechanic soon after moving to Casper. They’re honest, tell me straight-up what’s wrong and know not to suggest a new catalytic converter because my Check Engine light is permanently activated.

They also will take me to work and pick me up when my car is ready.

Jerry took me the one mile to work this time, for the first time. He asked what I did and I told him and told him that I like what I do even on the bad days.

Jerry agreed. He likes his job. Every day has its surprises — like my job, he said — and that’s a plus and a minus. He feels important because people rely on him to get to work, to get to the grocery store, to pick up their kids.

“If you don’t have a good doctor, you can’t function. If you don’t have a good mechanic, you can’t function.”

He’s influential — he definitely changed the course of my day. He thinks about all this every day, he said, even when things aren’t going right. Best start to a Monday (ever) — a 5-minute mini devotional in the passenger seat of a truck with a mechanic.

I remembered the mechanic today when I read the following:

Life’s most persistent and urgent question is: ‘What are you doing for others?’
— Martin Luther King, Jr.

Huge question. My answer this morning: “Not enough.”

Last week was fair week in Natrona County. The city desk split up the week’s events and I volunteered to do Monday and also the parade because I knew I would be gone later in the week. And because I love the fair.

Monday was a slow day at the fair, but I got a crash course in rabbit showing. I now know about fur types and colors, average weights for breeds and how to check ears for ear mites. I could also tell the difference between kids who raised rabbits to compete and kids who competed with rabbits they raised.

Tuesday was Parade Day. The city shuts down for a parade. People get the day off work and bars set up tents for day-long parties. I, like everyone else at the paper, had to work.

The day started with the Casper Chase 5K. The race began two blocks from my house and I figured I wouldn’t be able to get in and out of my apartment before the parade. (I was right.) After the race, I ran home, showered and walked downtown to the parade. Another reporter drove his antique car in the parade and invited me to ride along and get a different perspective.

We rode behind Miss Rodeo Wyoming.

I gathered a couple other perspectives and wrote my parade story as four short scenes. It was nothing groundbreaking, but I thought it more fun than a summary of events with a handful of soundbites thrown in. And I didn’t use the word “Casperites” once. That’s an accomplishment.

Tattoo parlor float

Tuesday was also my only chance to go to the fair, so we went after 10. Fair food was enjoyed — funnel cake, curly fries, lemonade. Sadly, the fair lacked cheese curds and the corn stand didn’t dip the cobs in melted butter. I did add a new item to my “tried it” list — a cartwheel. A hamburger patty is topped with cheese, battered and deep fried. It tasted like a cheeseburger topped with chicken finger breading. Delicious.

We didn’t ride any rides but walked up and down the midway — easily the brightest spot besides July 4 fireworks.

(cell phone Polaroid shot)

I can put a new (and my only) notch on my rodeo belt.

The College National Finals Rodeo took place in Casper last week. I wrote a feature story and helped cover three of the night performances for our live blog. On my second night, I took some video with our new handheld camera and posted them to YouTube and in the live chat. People loved the video and I did more on Saturday night. They’re all still up on my YouTube page with the nickname I chose back in high school. (YouTube, if you’re reading this, please allow people to change their user names!)
Clint, our high school sports coordinator, did most of the play-by-play and I covered when he looked up stats. I also tried to pepper the blog with as much color as an amateur rodeo announcer could. Goats were our favorite, hands down.

Steer wrestling

The rodeo blog wasn’t the most popular of the sporting events in terms of hits, but on the last night we had more than 100 comments from people listening to the live audiocast and following our blog. Two of the comments were from the mother and grandparents of one of the contestants who we posted video of. They were in Texas and couldn’t make it to Wyoming.

That, I told Clint, made all the scrambling worthwhile.