Year one: Work smart, not hard (year one) 3.1.02

My goal for today, in addition to edifying the audience if not actually wowwing a few of you with some word play (yes "wowwing" is a word), is to get out of the office as soon as possible so that I might go home and start nailing crooked pieces of wood over all the doors and windows in my palatial country home while praying to the god of unexpected late season snowfalls that I have enough Diet Mountain Dew to last until Monday.
But you know what they say about March coming in like a lion. Personally, I do not believe that March will go out like a lamb. In my experience, if March comes in like a lion, it usually goes out like a much older, nastier lion with a predisposition towards anti-social behavior, heavy drinking and violence.
It seems the least I can do on this the one year anniversary of my employment at the Daily Nonpareil is "keep it real," as the young people are wont to say, as fast as humanly possible.
It hardly seems like a year has gone by. That is typical. Once you get settled down into a career track, it doesn't matter whether you are 18 or 42, the rest of your life just starts to fly like lightning bugs in the grill of an 86 Caprice Classic. One day you are full of hopes and dreams and the next, you are dangerously close to retirement hoping no one who manages your 401k plan invested in Enron.
This is, of course, one of the best arguments for unemployment on the books. Not for me though. I, like many other people, have a destiny to fulfill and it does not involve sitting around watching copious amounts of television eating even more copious amounts of cheese. I save that for the weekends, my friends, and I suggest you do the same.
I was 24 when I showed up for my interview. Now I am 33. It has been a tough year, but one full of lessons. One of those lessons is never turn your back on a fellow reporter in a story meeting unless you want a Bic pen shoved between your third and fourth vertebrae. Reporters are an opportunistic bunch and if they see a chance to knock you down a peg, poach a story, cripple you or eat for free they will take it.
I also had the single greatest meal of my life this year. Yes, it was free and that made it all the tastier. Going completely off diet, I sampled the cuisine of five gourmet chefs at Harrah's one afternoon. It was almost worth risking blindness just for the creme broulle. I am not much for sweets but only profuse swearing can describe how mind-boggling delicious that was. Don't even get me started on the lemon mousse, I'm still having flashbacks.
I have met some really cool people this year. Council Bluffs has more character per square inch than "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?"
Brig. Gen. Reg Urschler from the Commemorative Air Force was enough character for one year, but then I never could stand abusive, pickled flyboys. He completes me or at least tried to make me look like a complete fool. Good job, Herr General. Like THAT'S hard to do.
Deb Danielsen, owner of the Wickham-DeVol House on the corner of Willow and Bluff tripped my trigger. At first, I admit she struck me as "just rich" and I tend to not get all gushy around people just because they have more stuff. Then I found her to be one of those truly unique individuals who cares enough about her city to start a civic improvement plan all on her own. And what a house. I just want to wander around her yard looking in the windows, but then I remember that's wrong.
I met Sara Gathers somewhere in the hinterland between Crescent and Underwood early on when she was fighting leukemia. I did three stories on her and the final one was about her death. I have to admit, it hit me harder than I expected because she was the first person I ever wrote a story on with the idea of helping them out and that is why I got into this profession. It was the first time it worked and I felt pumped when the family sent me a thank you note. "All in a day's work" I thought as if that were the end of it. That kind of thing never ends.
Don't even let's get started on 9/11.
Bill Ramsey, Wilbur Chaney, Dick Peterson, George Lee, the list goes on like Julia Roberts at the Oscars.
The most important thing I've learned in the last year is that hard work is for suckers, working SMART is where it's at. You can bang your head against a wall all you want, it doesn't mean people have to respect what you do. Oh they might respect the fact that you work hard, it doesn't mean they aren't wondering why you didn't put out something better for all that hard work.
In the years to come, I am going to work towards becoming untouchable and bulletproof, a teflon-covered writer with no seams, cracks or spaces for bats to wriggle into. Think Mark Twain, Hunter S. Thompson, Leonard Cohen and H.L. Mencken, they could say or do anything because no matter what else was true, people knew they were telling the truth. That is a legacy worth working for.
So if I had to sum up Greg: Year One, it would read: I would rather be untouchable than rich any day but if I could be both, that would totally rock.
And what is in store for Greg: Year Two? I fully expect to have a sophomore slump steeped in the deepest, blackest depression only to awaken some three months hence transformed into a giant cockroach, then we'll see who has the last laugh. Ha, ha, ha, yes we will. Oh and if possible, I will find that creme broulle recipe. Lachaim!
-Greg Jerrett is Daily Nonpareil staff writer. He may be contacted at 328-1811 ext. 279 or by e-mail at gjerrett@nonpareilonline.com.