I learned from reading a mystery novel over the weekend that when we’re worried, we should turn worry into hope. Poof! Worry disappears.
Think about what it is you want. I did. And I already have it. But what is it?
It’s Nicky Boyette, our garden guy who writes as though you’re right next to him and he’s explaining that if you just drop this seed in the ground, you’ll grow a plant that’s good for shingles, snakebite, hunger, or tea. Good information even if you never plant a plant. Nicky’s not in this for the money.
It’s Mike Ellis, a fixture at airport and quorum court meetings in the county, and Historic District Commission and Planning and School Board meetings in Eureka Springs. When he writes about who said what, he’s right. I talk to him once a year or so, see him less than that, and totally trust him. He’s loyal. He has a real job, so he isn’t in this for the money.
It’s Tavi Ellis (related) who drives to town or was here anyway and sees something beautiful or notable and captures it with a camera and sends it to us. Only an authentic artist who isn’t in it for the money does that.
It’s Becky Gillette, a serious freelance writer who isn’t afraid of anything except city council meetings. She talks to the highest ranked person in any company and asks them what they’re doing to us and why, then explains their answer in print. She’s not in it for the money.
It’s Wolf Grulkey, the reason we get anonymous hate letters and cancelled advertising from those who don’t like the politics of a Vietnam Era Navy jet engine mechanic who kept a sketchpad and used cartooning to heal himself due to that war. He’s not in it for the money.
It’s Lisa Mullins, with an occasional spell from Robert Johnson, who both know about water temperature and mood, trout habits and tourists. They like people who like to fish, and they’re the ones you want to fry your catch over the campfire. They’re neither one in this for the money, and I’ve never met either of them.
It’s Cara Sroges, whom I’ve met once, when she came to our Christmas party with her husband, Kirk, who was then writing a column. Kirk wrote when he remembered it was deadline day. Cara is punctual, thorough, consistent. Their column is called The Coffee Table because he told me they steadied a tray on the bed to have their first cup of coffee every morning. Cara’s not in it for the money.
It’s Risa. Jeanette Brown saw her column in The Free Weekly and told me at the office Steven Foster and I shared to get her in the paper. (Jeanette was Taurus.) This is Risa’s 12th year of writing for us. Her column is true and accurate astrology derived from years of studying planetary alignment and influence. I’ve never met her, and I know she’s not in it for the money.
It’s CD White who partied with Three Dog Night in Nassau, fell in love with priests, and worked here until she retired. If she sold her words she would make a lot, but she forgets to bill us. She’s my confessor. She’s not in it for the money.
It’s Jeremiah Alvarado, who’s been coming to work with his mom, Perlinda, since 1999 when we did the Lovely County Citizen. Jeremiah was three and has grown up in a newspaper office. Now his sons come into the office. The four-year-old likes computers and phones, and the nearly two-year-old likes to shoot baskets. Jeremiah might be in it for the money, I’ll ask him. He’ll deny it. And buy my lunch.
It’s Perlinda. She’s our graphic artist, she gives great phone, she’s never sick, and she and I are business partners. I am grateful for that every day and wouldn’t have it any other way. She prefers pictures to words, so she won’t read me blurt out that today’s her birthday. She’s clearly not in it for the money.
If I were in it for the money I coulda bought her a card.
So. What is it?