Dr. Dog's House
9/23/2008 - The mystery of the missing notebook
OK, I'm back after a very busy weekend, one filled with frustration and drama and fear. Yes, fear. Sorta.
It all started at the football game last Friday night. An ordinary game, and not a very exciting one, either. Our team had a 14-0 lead within two minutes of the kickoff, a 28-0 lead one play into the second quarter and was ahead 42-7 at halftime. Final score: 49-14. No, not so thrilling.
After the game, I got a picture of the team in its post-game huddle, then got a picture of a volunteer coach on the team, for a feature I'm planning. I was hurrying around after the final gun to grab my camera bag and stuff, and I know I dropped my reporter's notebook and program once or twice. Usually I stick them in the camera bag, but I was wrapped up in talking to people. That's the way it is after a game.
I went home, watched TV for a while, helped my wife to bed, caught up with the news online and then hit the hay myself. Saturday morning, I had to be at the office early to talk to the coach (who likes to get interviews out of the way before 9 a.m.--he gets up early).
I get to the office, open the camera bag and reach for my little yellow notebook. It's not there. The program is there, my photo notebook is there, and the camera is there. The narrow yellow notebook isn't. Not there. I go out and look in my car. No dice. Inside the house, where I put the bag overnight. Ix-nay.
This notebook is where I write play-by-play notes of the game. Who did what and when and to whom. I stand on the sidelines during a game, scribbling notes between plays. When it's time for another play, I stick the notebook under my arm and put the pen in my mouth so both my hands are free to operate the camera. After the play, I put the camera down and start writing. That's how I do it.
And even though it was a lopsided, not-that-interesting game, they were still my notes on what happened, from which I compose my story. Without it ... I didn't want to think about it. So I got in my car and drove to the football field. Walked down the hill to the field and looked around. Not there. I climbed the hill again, got back in the car and drove to the parking lot at the school. Nothing to see.
Crap! All I was thinking was that I'd have to base the story on the bare-bones account in the local daily paper and the coach's faulty memory. So I was depressed about that. I covered a volleyball match that afternoon, and all I could think about was that missing football notebook. Crap! I was glum that night.
But my wife said that someone had called, asking if I was missing a notebook. It was one of the school personnel; a retired teacher and husband to the tennis coach. She said he would put it in the office mailbox.
It wasn't there in the morning, when I got there, but it was at mid-morning. I didn't quite kiss it, but maybe I should have. Anyway, now I could write my uninteresting story about an uninteresting game, with all the necessary uninteresting details intact.
It got me to thinking. I don't take a lot of things too seriously, myself especially, but I do take my work damn seriously. I care very much about writing it right and getting facts straight, knowing what to say and how to say it. I don't like mistakes, my own especially. I like to give the facts, and let the reader make up their own mind.
I covered a volleyball match last night. Then, when I got home, my wife and I sat together and watched the original "Hellboy" movie. That was a lot of fun; we both enjoyed it. I know that the second Hellboy movie came out last summer, and I really wanted to see it, but it just didn't work out, and the film slipped out of town before I knew it. Heard a lot of good things about it, though, so I'm waiting for the DVD to come out. Not yet.
****
Ankle update: It is almost back to normal. Late last week, I started wearing athletic shoes again, and that worked OK. I wore them at the game last Friday and climbed up and down the hill OK. Including Saturday's unexpected visit.
Monday, I tried my normal work shoes, but they were still digging in a little too much where the ankle is tender, so back to the athletic shoes. I had to run a few errands this noon, and as I was walking from the car to the drug store to city hall, I noticed that I was walking at my normal brisk pace.
****
It's a beautiful day here today. Sunny, and the temperature is in the mid 70s. The annual color change has started, but it's moving very slowly. Partly, that is because we haven't had a really hard frost yet.
The office golf fanatics are away today, getting in a final round, so there's just me and another woman in the office. Very quiet day. A good day for writing.
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The site that asks "Can an old dog learn new tricks?" Oh, indubitably!
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9/23/2008 - Untitled Comment
I'm also glad your ankle is doing better, I think it's best to keep wearing the athletic shoes a bit longer. I would imagine they give your ankle much needed support..:)