Wednesday, October 22, 2008 9:31 PM CDT
COLUMN: Retirement means more time to hunt for Mickey Mouse
By HARRY REYNOLDS
I tried to kill Mickey Mouse, but Mickey wouldn’t die. But what does this have to do with my recent retirement from the Journal Gazette/Times-Courier?
We’ll get to that in a little while. But first I want to talk about Mickey. You’re probably wondering why I’m obsessing about the Mouse. Which is a fair question.
It started in 1997 when we bought a house in Lumpkin Heights in Mattoon. It’s a nice, two-story house with a three-car garage and very little yard.
I like having a small yard. I don’t mow it. I will never mow it. I hate mowing. When I was a kid, we didn’t have power lawnmowers.
For 16 cents, the price of a ticket to the theater and box of Crackerjacks, I pushed the mower through the hills and valleys of my parents’ lawn. For this I got to see Saturday afternoon Westerns.
In our house now, I claimed the bedroom of a 10-year-old girl, who loved the Mouse. The Mickey Mouse border marching across the four walls of the room featured Mickey dancing, laughing, running, jumping and doing flips.
I made the room — measuring approximately 11 by 11 — an office. I didn’t want to live under the eyes of the Mouse, but my wife persuaded me to leave Mickey be. I left the Mouse alone for nine years, all the while hating the cheerful beast.
One night in 2006, having consumed several beers — all right, many beers — I shot one of the Mickeys with my gas-powered pellet gun. I killed him, leaving 279 to go. I could have dispatched them all with ease with my shotgun, but that might have made my wife suspicious.
A lot of things change when you retire. Time mostly. That, and the absolution of responsibility.
I worked for the newspaper for 40 years, born of the linotype, ending with pagination, the Internet, the JG/T-C Online page, and the ruminations of commenters.
It’s been a good run. I met a lot of people, covered murder trials, crime, school boards, city councils, Eastern Illinois University, Lake Land College. Never been bored. The news business is a great business.
On the Square was born in a small office at the corner of Sixth and Jackson on the Charleston Square. I could smell the smells of Snappy’s — the counter hamburger and fries joint in the same building.
The cab service operated from the office adjoining mine. Its oil and carbon monoxide scents warred with the burgers and fries. I was hired Feb. 5 of 1969. March 31 — I think — the first column appeared in the newspaper.
Over the intervening years I have been reporter, city editor, night editor, JG editor and Opinions Editor.
Only two columns were not published by the newspaper. One because it was deemed in bad taste. The second dealt with buying automobiles.
Of the two, only one upset me. It focused on my desire to sit with my family at my funeral. Resting in a casket doesn’t have much appeal.
On the date of my retirement, Sept. 30, I had written more than 4,000 columns. I went out swinging, blasting the Mattoon City Council’s ridiculous habit of meeting in a small room in Mattoon City Hall to discuss business it would discuss once it crossed the hall to the council chambers.
A week later the newspaper threw a party for me. I appreciate that. Current and former employees attended. They gave me a Leatherman, knowing how much I love to camp. They gave me cards filled with signatures, compliments and lamentations about my retirement.
They hugged me, shook my hand, patted me on the back, said they’d miss me — at least until I exited the building.
I hated to leave the newspaper, but at 65, nearing 66, it was my time. I plan to drink beers with some of my fellow employees, but I’m not one of those people who returns. When you’re done, you’re done. It’s a fact of life.
I’m not a “Sometimes They Come Back” kind of guy.
You move on. There’s a certain poetry to that. Like riding a wave receding. I’ll miss every one of the people at the newspaper.
I’ve worked for three publishers — Bill Hamel, Dave Simpson and Carl Walworth. Hamel hired me despite the fact that I couldn’t type, had absolutely no experience in the newspaper business, and had a bad temper. He should have fired me several times, given my aggressive personality.
I’ve never been politically correct, am the original male chauvinist pig, and mumble.
Hamel was a great mentor. The guy has class. He’s strongly opinionated, independent and loves Mattoon. He’s a kind man. Hamel makes friends easily.
But, when he retired, he retired.
Walworth, who started out in the sports department, is a longtime friend. He has a big heart. His only fault is maybe not being tough enough. This is a tough world, but it may be that toughness is overrated.
Being human is really what matters. Being human means caring, showing compassion. Walworth is very much human.
I think that is what I best like about him.
Retirement allowed me to go home, tear the 280 Mickeys off my office walls and transform the office into a den.
And here I rule.
I painted the walls, installed more book cases, stacking Lincoln, the Civil War, Shakespeare, biographies of a number of other political figures, history books, 1,800 novels (the best writing ever) on their shelves.
I consume college and professional football, fixate on Fox, CNN and Charlie Rose, and wait for election night.
A spate of Mickey Mouse stickers yet adorn the window of my den. I intend to remedy that.
Harry Reynolds has retired as editorial page editor of the Journal Gazette/Times-Courier.
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Mama says wrote on Oct 23, 2008 6:33 AM: