Seven beers

Next day, I have a busy day planned.  I’m planning to spend the night in Manhattan, Kansas.  There’s a water conference being held there, and then I’m attending the Kansas Press Association Conference banquet that night.  Bruce, my husband, will meet me there and stay with me.  As I pack my overnight bag, I decide to bring one of the beers with me to share with him.  I grab a towel to wrap it in, and I pack my clothes around it.  It will be safe.  I don’t even think about how to keep it cold.

By the end of the day, I was exhausted.  So much driving.  So much thinking.  The first press Media briefing I’ve ever attended, and there were some great newsmen there, people I read frequently from bigger papers than mine–Kansas City Star, Lawrence Journal World, Wichita Eagle, Salina Journal and the Associated Press.  Being in the same room with them, observing what they do, the questions they ask, and how they work was a great experience.  I can’t help feeling both in awe and a bit like a fraud–I mean, they have so much more experience than I do.  But they were in my shoes a long time ago, and I push forward, even ask a decent question or two of my own.

The banquet was good.  I talked to a guy there who is younger than me, and bought his own paper and is acquiring a few others.  He’s a bit loud, but he’s fun to talk to.  And, I got received some insight into what it’s like to work on the other side of the desk.

Bruce joined me after the banquet at the hotel lobby bar, but we didn’t stick around long.  I really needed some sleep.  We got back to the room, and I forgot about the beer, and I had a wonderful, blissful night of sleep.  And in the morning, as I woke, I thought I need to get up, get the laptop out, and write.  Dress, kiss and goodbye, see you at home Bruce, and I make my way to the other hotel where the conference is, and check in, a little early, and sit on a lobby chair and write Eight Beers, which you’ve probably read.

While I’m there, I see my old editor with the new crop of young reporters.  She’s actually there at an event–something she never did while I was at the Telescope.  I say hi to a few old faces, and during the break between speakers and the award luncheon, I decide to leave.  She never came because her son was in high school and she didn’t have time to take away from raising him and attending his stuff, and I realize–I don’t either.  And we’re not getting any awards either.

It’s prom day.  i’ve spent three weeks making a dress for my daughter.  and I need to get home and be there for all of it.  Leaving before lunch, I make it to help with last minute dress adjustments, photos, and the walk-in.  While we’re there, we talk to some friends who invite us over to have a few beers.

I didn’t bring any of Mark’s beer.  I couldn’t drink it in that setting.  For me, his beer isn’t for drinking socially.  So, it’s back in the fridge, waiting for me.  I’m going to go drink it now, on Palm Sunday, the beginning of Holy Week.  Tomorrow, I’m making THE POST.  I’ll tell you about it more later.  It came to me in the morning.  It will (hopefully) be good.


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