After I graduated from journalism school many moons ago, I wanted to work in small town journalism. I took a class in community journalism my senior year, and I was hooked. My dream job (then) was to own my own small newspaper. A trip back to Mayberry maybe.
And I pursued that dream--for a while. As long as it was my dream. I got a job at a small town newspaper owned by a man who owned a number of small papers. Had I worked there for several years, I probably would have become editor of one. But I didn't work there for a number of years. (But that is a different story.)
But while I was there for a year and a half, I dove into my work. I was all about the small town. And I discovered there is news everywhere, even in a small town. And people want to know this news.
At this same time, my personal interests changed. I became more artsy craftsy. More settled. And more centered.
During this time, I became fascinated by the banjo. I loved it. Listening to it at least. I went to several live shows and saw players sporting a Gold Star Banjo and making great music. I wanted to do that!
I saw an ad for a banjo class and rented a banjo and some other gear. I even showed up to the first class. My heart was in the right place, but my schedule wasn't. When you work for a small town newspaper, you are working all the time. And sometimes that can be till 11 p.m. So, I went to that one class, and then the banjo stayed in my trunk. Lonely and sad. I never found out if I could be a good banjo player. But I know i still love listening to it.
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