I’ve told y’all about my people. I’ve probably told you too much. For the most part, you know me pretty well. You might have too much information about my kids, and I’ve written some pretty darn sappy things about The Man. I’ve talked about my mom and my dad, and I’m sure I’ve mentioned my wonderful in-laws from time to time.
Six and a half years ago, when I first started doing this little weekly gig, I had zero clue. Some of you might say that’s still the case, but we can deal with that another day (or never).
Joe White convinced me to get going and just write, saying “Who cares what people think?” If you know him, that won’t surprise you. If you’re reading, you know I gave up on that a long time ago.
We had a plan. I’d submit a column every week, with the deadline being Thursday. That gave the staff plenty of time to get organized, because print day is Tuesday. Great plan, right?
I’d stress about that deadline, sweating if I was running late on Thursdays. One week, an understanding soul said, “You really can have until Friday, if that helps.” That might’ve been her biggest mistake.
From that point forward, Friday was my new deadline. Insert eyeroll emoji.
Friday turned into Saturday, which didn’t last long. Sunday wasn’t ever an option. Monday was the it day for probably a year. It was an easy way to start my week. Until it wasn’t.
One day, the same soul said, “I mean, we don’t go to the printer until Tuesday, so relax. Just get it to me by, say, 3pm tomorrow, and we will be all good.”
Welcome Tuesday deadline. That’s also the day the paper goes to the printer. Yep, I might be a jerk. She swears I’m not. She also always tells me my columns are good, even when I know they’re not. If I’m traveling or dealing with whatever life hands out, she offers to put an old column in, just to give me a break. Because of weekly deadlines, she’s known most everything about me, often before others do.
There have been days she’s had to remind me. “You do know it’s Tuesday, right,” she says. Once or twice, or maybe a few more times than that, I actually have not known it’s Tuesday. That probably seems crazy, in today’s digital age, but I’m willing to admit I might be crazy. She’d likely agree. She’d never tell me though. Even when I do know it’s Tuesday, I often don’t have a clue about what I’ll be writing that day. What can I say? I work better under pressure. She pretends to understand.
What y’all don’t know, is how much she’s done for The Metro Spirit. What she’s done for the paper, she’s done for Augusta. She’s done all that, and more, for me. I haven’t talked about her much, but she’s one of my people. She’s moving on, though, as people do, and she will be dearly missed.
Here’s to the best editor a girl could have. Your talent, patience and kindness have not gone unnoticed. We still need to do lunch. I’m here, if you ever need someone to remind you when it’s Tuesday. I’ll miss my Tuesdays with Amy. Love and best of luck with your new endeavor. Cheers!