I was recognized again, twice
this week and this from the head-shot which accompanied my column in a paper I haven’t
written for in six months.
It’s weird, I’m shopping and
someone says, “...aren’t you the writer who...” or “...you write a column don’t
you?”
I’ve blogged about being recognized
before and while not wanting to boast or appear self-centered it’s a kick for a stranger
to acknowledge my writing efforts. They always have something positive to say
about my columns except for one article; it was a fun piece but the timing of
its publication sucked. As it should -
tragedy trumps clever.
I wonder when people will forget,
when local readers will no longer put my face and what I communicate, together
as a writing package. The newspaper I write for now, higher volume more bucks,
does not print a head-shot with the column. The readership, though considered by
them as local - considered by me really isn’t. I don’t look my readers in the
eye anymore unless I head across the Connecticut River and they wouldn’t have a
clue who I was anyway. Maybe that’s a good thing. Don’t get me wrong, I love, love,
love where I am now. I used to live and work over-there so I’m getting emails
and connecting with folks I have lost touch with, even family members are
chiming in. They don’t need a pic...yee haw, they already know my name.
Having said that, it’s still a
kick though, to be squeezing cucumbers or thumping cantaloupes and someone I
have never met says, “...I know you, you write. Love your column and honeydews
are buy one get one this week.” I humbly said thank you and bought the melons.
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