Sunglasses

Just about everyone I talk to asks me how long I have been with the paper, which forces me to tell them “only about three weeks.” The next obvious question is “Then where do you come from?”

So I answer. I don’t think most people understand that I am not from New York City. But that’s OK. That problem arises no matter where I am.

I find their responses to be interesting. Some say, “Oh that’s really far. How are you adjusting?” But others don’t even react. It’s like I told them I moved to Superior from Missoula or something. I’m almost more intrigued by the people who show the littlest interest in my move. I am not sure if they just don’t process the information or if they don’t care or if they didn’t even listen or what. Anyway, it’s interesting.

Other people don’t ask me anything. And here’s why.

I was reporting a story up in Haugan about a radio field day and in walked this couple. I was in the middle of talking to the guy in charge of the field day, and he stopped to introduce me to the couple. They said they knew who I was. They had seen me at the flea market, about which I wrote last week. They told me they enjoyed my article and they also liked the piece I did about the Gildersleeve mine. They are friends with Sue Mclees,

the woman who was at the mine, and they appreciated me giving her some press. Then the woman asked me if I had a fun time whitewater rafting. She said she thought otherwise based on the picture. I told her it was simply the water splashing in my face that made it look like I was stressed out.

But the point of this drawn-out sequence is to illustrate just how closely these people can follow me.

They knew what I was up to on Thursday, Friday and Saturday just by reading the paper. And by asking around, they already knew a little bit of my history and didn’t need to ask.

I never really thought about being followed in that sort of way. I realize that this blog is a little bit like that, but it’s not quite the same. Most people who take the time to read my droning posts know me. That’s why they take the time. Here were people I had never met, who live 2,500 miles from my home town, who are now able to follow a certain aspect of my life.

A woman in the post office also said she saw my whitewater piece. “That was pretty cool,” she said. Similar thing happened at a community concert I reported.

Now, I am not saying I need to go around wearing sunglasses like a celebrity, but it is strange to think that the people on the street are more likely to know me than I am to know them.

I mean, aren’t I the one who’s supposed to be writing about everyone else?

Comments welcome,

Andrew