A seasoned journalist from my newsroom had had a harsh polemic with a politician, the secretary of education of the regional government. She basically called him a liar in a column. He was furious and he threatened with stopping the source of info about his department. I was then one of the youngest reporters of the newspaper, but my boss sent me to try to fix the problem by offering him a broad interview about his goals and projects.
Reluctantly, he accepted and told me to go see him right after lunch.
My first interview with a member of the government! I got ready with a battery of questions written in my notebook and my tape recorder.
Those days – it was my first year in the newsroom and I was the reporter for everything – I had been working non stop from early in the morning till very late at night and I was exhausted.
When I arrived to the office of the politician, I noticed, pretty surprised, that he was scared of me, a beginner. He awaited me ready with a stack of notes with all kind of data about all the questions I could possibly ask. I have never felt before like that the power of my profession.
It was summer, the day was very hot, the sun was shining and he had lowered the blinds to maintain the office fresh. I sat down in a very comfortable chair in front of him, turned on my tape recorder, asked my first question, began to take notes and the next thing I remember was an uneasy silence.
I opened my eyes and saw a descendant line in my notebook. I looked up and saw the man looking at me flummoxed. I just had fallen asleep! In the middle of the interview!
I looked at my list of questions, uttered the second one, and… yes. I did it again: another silence, another crazy line in my notebook…
– I’m sorry… I began to say
– Would you like a cup of coffee? he interrupted me
We managed to finish the interview and it was a good one.
(In the picture, me, as a reporter)
Big bags are like the cookie monster, they can eat, and eat, and eat things and never get tired of it.
The more room they have more things it seems that we need to take with us wherever we go.
We put things in and almost never take them out
The bigger they are the more weight we have to carry.
They are masters in hiding keys. No matter which kind of key chain you use.They would get conveniently covered under layers of packs of tissues, papers, the phone, maybe a scarf, a foldable umbrella, a toy of the kid or who knows what.
In fact, they are masters in hiding precisely that item you need, and revealing it when you don’t need it at all.
They are responsible for the developing of the art of “fishing” for the needed item thru the tact, without the participation of the sight. Aaaaaaargh!
I used to have big bags when i worked as a reporter to take with me my tape recorder, my notepad, my camera if necessary and all kind of stuff to deal with the unexpected, from an exit to the mountain books or some hobbies for the long waits in the corridors of the court-house.
But now? Enough
Small bags, My wallet, my keys, my phone, my tissues and nothing more.
For many years my family lived in an apartment next to a boarding house, so our neighbours were mostly students, besides the family running the house. The woman in charge of the boarding house Maura, was a really nice neighbour. The students were all male, pretty noisy, but usually well-behaved.
One year – I don’t remember exactly when, but certainly, before I went to High School – a Law student arrived. I don’t know what was he doing with his time, but I only know that when it was my time to go to the University, he was still studying Law. He even had business cards with the title so and so, profession: Law student.
I remember, that he was famous in the university bar, because, at the beginning of the scholar year, as soon as he would spotted a spectacular blonde, he would go directly to invite her to a drink. Then, when they were drinking at the bar, he used to turn around and catch the first young and unsuspecting guy: look, – he would told him, like confiding a secret – “I just invited this girl and have noticed that I forgot my wallet, please, get me out of the embarrassment and pay me the drinks”. This usually worked one or two times with the youngest and more innocents, but at the third time, when the professional student of law approached a blonde in the bar, everybody would fled.
When I finished my studies, he was still in the boarding house, presumably studying law. I don’t know how he managed to don’t be expelled from the University after so many years. I guess he was already out of the University but he had never told his parents.
in the picture a view of the main building of my “Alma Mater”
You’re at the beach, lounging on your towel, when a glistening object at the water’s edge catches your eye. It’s a bottle — and yes, it contains a message. What does it say?
Damn bottle! There is no way it will travel across the seas with my SOS message. It always comes back right here! to my deserted island. I don’t know how this system always worked for the castaways in the novels I’ve read and the movies I’ve watched when I was a kid. Thanks God I had my GPS and my radio and sent a message before the batteries went dead. I hope the help will come soon. Stupid people do stupid things. I did a lot of them. Sailing solo, sinking my ship here, and wasting my time putting a map of my deserted island in a bottle that refuses to leave me. At least I had fun doing it. What I don’t like is seeing the bottle back again and again.
Daily Prompt: SOS.
SOS posts by other bloggers on the next page:
Tell us about a time you’d been trying to solve a knotty problem — maybe it was an interpersonal problem, a life problem, a big ol’ problem — and you had a moment of clarity when the solution appeared to you, as though you were struck by lightening.
I don’t remember a single serious problem solved by a miraculous moment of clarity. What I remember is hard work and perseverance. There have been moments of clarity after a big deal of meditation for important decisions in my life but that belongs to my intimacy. I also had inspirational moments in my life mostly thanks to my parents. I already wrote about them in this blog.
I had some silly ideas coming to me in a moment of clarity. I have no strength in my hands and for me it was impossible to uncorks a champagne bottle. It was a real problem to me. One day a light struck me. I could use a nutcracker to help me. The cork came out without effort!. Not very romantic, but very efficient. My problems with champagne bottles solved for ever.
In other occasion I was working with my computer and taking notes at the same time and I had another moment of clarity. I decided to use my left hand to work with the mouse and my right hand to take the notes and save time and space this way. It works nicely.
Daily Prompt: Moment of Clarity.
Moments of clarity posts by other bloggers on the next page:
Click over to your favorite blog, and pick out the 4th and 14th words (that aren’t “the” or “an”). Drop them into this phrase:“_____ is the new _____.”There’s your post title. Now write!
A new program called HELM (Highly Elemental Live Monitor) is the first private anti NSA surveillance system launched by a 15-year-old high school student that in fact can detect when someone is spying on your e-mail accounts, your social media book contacts or buddy lists or your phone calls. The program immediately detects the interference and notify the user by an instant message telling “Someone is monitoring your communication”. You have then three possibilities: “stop the communication”, “continue” or “show your disapproval in your own words”.
The boy, Kevin Adams, from Pennsylvania, developed the program working on-line with a pal from India whose name and age where not disclosed. Adams is hiding because what began as a game for him has turn in a nightmare: The NSA is after him, representatives of governments like the UK, Germany and France with similar surveillance programs are looking for him, China and Russia are willing to hire him and the US Internet industry is desperate to have the program, seeing in HELM a safe boat after all the damage in profits caused by the NSA scandal.
Adams was first detected and his program discovered by the NSA because most of his users began to choose the option “Show your disapproval in your own words” when they discovered someone was monitoring their communications. We are not going to reproduce the answers here for respect to our readers. But precisely these weird answers made the NSA analysts suspicious. An Investigation began until the source of the problem was found.
An officer who spoke under anonymity’s condition said that probably HELM did more harm to PRISM than Snowden’s revelations to the press. He also said the agency is not going to press charges against Adams who is a minor. On the contrary, the NSA want’s to know more about the program and probably hire the boy.
Human rights organisations and defenders of the right of privacy are asking the NSA to live alone the teenager and are planning in naming a prize on the freedom of speech after Adams and his unknown Indian friend.
I took my words from The Jittery Goat
Daily Prompt: ______ is the new ______.
More blank posts on the next page:
Have you ever been addicted to anything, or worried that you were? Have you ever spent too much time and effort on something that was a distraction from your real goals? Tell us about it.
When I was a little kid I spent hours caressing my cat and my stuffed toy animals. I couldn’t stop it. I had always something furry with me. On Sundays when we went to Mass I always choose a seat near to the alley, so in winter when the rich women with their furry coats passed by I only had to hasten my arm and open my hand to caress the fur carefully without being noticed…until my mom discovered me. From that day on I had to change my seat and control my first known particular addiction, at least while in church. At home I still had my cat.
Daily Prompt: Can’t Get Enough.
Read more addicted posts on the next page:
Do you consider yourself funny? What role does humor play in your life? Who’s the funniest person you know?
I’m not funny at all. A pity. I would like to. I love laughing and being with people laughing with me. Even sometimes at me, when is not in an offensive way. We use to laugh a lot at home. My father was funny in his quiet way, he had a sharp, quick, intelligent sense of humor we all enjoyed. He wrote hilarious poems usually dedicated to my mom about everyday common events. He knew how to turn those little things in something extraordinary and really funny. He kept his sense of humor until the end. Even when he had big difficulties to talk he was able to make jokes with one or two words said at the right moment. We laughed a lot with dad and we laugh a lot with mom. She is different. She doesn’t invent jokes, but she has a very easy and contagious laugh. We laugh till tears with her about nothing. A little funny thing is enough to make her laugh and that’s great in her condition because she’s very sick, but taking care of her is easy when she is so happy and grateful.
Humor means a lot in my life. Maybe because I’m a little somber I need humor as air to breathe and I appreciate it a lot. I don’t understand why I’m so serious when both mom and dad were so joyful and funny. I admire people who have sense of humor and know how to elaborate it. I know many funny people. I don’t know who is the funniest, but the biggest surprise for me was a coworker, a photojournalist from my newspaper. He and his twin brother are both photographers. They are very quiet. They almost don’t talk. Only what’s strictly necessary. I never thought they could be funny at all until one of them discovered Facebook and began to post jokes about themselves, their work and the life in our city, all made with their spare pictures and a short comment. Hilarious. It’s a pity I can’t describe better his humor to you. They put a smile in my face almost every day. So does my paper’s cartoonist, another of the funniest and intelligent people I know. And best of all, they are all also good friends.
Daily Prompt: Funny Ha-Ha.
Funny bloggers in the next page:
Can anything be funny, or are some things off limits?
There are a few things off-limits. I don’t think a tragedy is funny or make fun in an offensive way of a handicapped person is funny or be offensive to the most sacred believes of some group of people is funny, for instance.
I’m not the best person to talk about what is and what is not funny, because although I love laughing like everybody does, I’m not good at jokes. Lately I have problems to look on the bright side of life.
I admire people who can make fun of things, be at easy, have good spirits and spread joy around. I think that a key to make people laugh out of joy is love. Because of that, deep offenses are out of the picture. This said, I have to confess I love political satire or political humor when is intelligent. I know, there is absolutely not love for politicians in that. They are public personalities and have to deal with that kind of jokes. It comes with the job.
Daily Prompt: Too Soon?.