From whence came you?

Your high school mascot wasn't the Huskies was it?

 

Born in flyoverville in the late ‘60s. Worked for my carpenter dad as a kid, grocery store bagger (no plastic, only paper), moving company grunt, weekend radio DJ, finished concrete, built a hog barn and finally got my first honest to goodness non-J school newspaper job on Pearl Harbor Day, 1990.

After an ignominious end there, I’ve lived and worked in Kentucky, Illinois, Washington (construction in and around Portland), The Inland Empire (RIP Goff and Brewster), Missouri (last newspaper job ended in ‘08), Florida (kid 1), and Missouri since (along with kid 2).

Since ‘08, I’ve done all sorts of jobs, from regional magazine writer to Census taker to school crossing guard (“Hey, buddy, get a real job” some frat schmuck yelled one day). Worked 2.5 years in university marketing and communications until the layoff came in 2017. Since then, freelance editor, writer and ghostwriter for a book on law firm profitability.

Retirement plan is to buy a small house as a home base and RV it half the year in chunks two or three weeks at a time. I’d like that house to be on the Oregon or Washington coast, but that’s unlikely with the California influx that’s been happening the last 20 or so years.

After that, sweet, blessed death.

 

61 year old Nana, 2 grandkids.
Married since 1/79.
Live in Connecticut off of I-91 near the border with Springfield, Ma. (95% of my life)
Spend time in Vermont, home state of my Nana and Garden City SC.
Probably the most boring person you could ever met.
(that is Mt. Moosalamoo in the background of my pic and Wally the RedSox mascot on my kayak)

 

Can't help but notice many of us are middle-aged (at least), with quite a few birthdays in the early to mid-1970s.

I believe the demographics are quite similar in the "Upside Down" version of SJ, too.

 

I come from the land of the ice and snow, of the midnight sun, where the hot springs flow.

Actually, I was born in 1958 in Michigan, and bounced around the state ever since. Newspapers for 35 years, screwing around freelancing the last few.

 

Born in Tampa, 1956. Grew up in Atlanta, then Birmingham to Houston to Birmingham. Been back in the 'Ham for thirty one years now. Married 38 years.

Pretty generic southern boy most ways.

 

Born on an Air Force base in ‘74. Last of three military brats. Don’t have many memories if that life but it’s still an influence.

Grew up and went to college in the Midwest. Loved it but always wanted something bigger. Decided at age 14 journalism was my calling. Probably would’ve liked future me to step in there.

Reporter at a small paper. Got hired to start a weekly magazine/website covering a Big Ten School. Lots of fun. Left to to be the SE at a small paper in a chain. Got promoted to bigger papers in the chain.

Met the love of my life. Got the destination job at a major outlet in the biggest market, right after we got married in 2010. It was a GREAT job for eight years.

I’m still doing the job. It’s been a lot less great the last two years but, on good days, I still get the thrill I imagined as a teen.

My wife has a great, big job. And she’s a superstar. Makes it easy to stick with my gig, as long as it lasts.

Been trying to move on for a couple of years. But nothing has been what I want yet. Mostly the money at this point. I’m not even looking for the “big-time” satisfaction any longer. Just normal hours and comparable money.

I want to do the same great job with my skills in a less volatile environment.

I’m not sure that dream exists these days.

My grandpa worked for the same company for 42 years. Started low and ended high.

Is that possible anymore?

 

Born on the SF Peninsula in 1960 and have called Northern California home most of my life. Attended San Jose State, was a reporter for the student paper one semester, sports editor the next then worked in the sports information office the rest of my college days. After some freelancing and another season as the baseball SID, got my first full-time job in the business at a weekly in Merced County. Eventually moved up to the juco beat at our mother ship in Merced. Went to news desk at a small daily in Turlock for a few years, then back to Merced on news desk until it was bought by McClatchy, and I was laid off. Worked for a few years in Lake Havasu City, Ariz., then back to California in Hanford (thus the handle) before getting into an absolutely disastrous relationship that saw me leave the the business and, later than I should have, the relationship.

Back home now in Santa Cruz County, where I work at Safeway (and may be striking soon!) and, when time allows, string for the local paper, just to keep up my typing skills.

 

Mid-Atlantic born and raised.
Gen X, latchkey child, son of service veterans.
Got farther in schooling than a class clown ever should.
Dreamt of being a writer when I was 12 years old and worked the dream.
Being a stay-at-home dad is the only job I've ever wanted and will ever want to have.

 

I'm a 74 model.
Been out here in Western KS all of my life. Never lived more than 20 minutes from where I was born.
Married with a 20 year old sophomore in college.
Parents have lived on the same block out here for 44 years.

 

In a world...
Where a woman can live a life that is an amalgam of Forrest Gump and lost National Geographic footage of what would happen if you gave a bonobo a backpack, tuition money, and art supplies...
Phssht. I got nothin' else.

Native Nashvillian. Spent most of my glorious misspent yute in Bossier City, Shreveport, Lubbock, Wichita, Nashville, Oakland, and Memphis.
Born in 1963. I did not shoot JFK. I have an alibi. My hippie mother would not let me play with firearms or drive the car without supervision. Cryptofascist. (Not that I would shoot a person anyway. Skeet weep when they hear mah name.)
My writerly bonafides are all e-outlets: They mostly pertain to hockey, futbol, lacrosse, rugby, art, theatre, folklore, and anthropology/archaeology.
My favorite interview ever was with Walter Bush.
I retired from dating late last year after I informed my last consort I would take him home if he stopped crying.

So now y'all know me. Or know at me. Or something.