Mulling things on my morning ramble with Storm, our family’s mixed Lab.
Copy editors and writers/reporters pull on each other in a creative tug-of-war, sort of like a robin working a worm from dry earth.
To oversimplify: Editors think they are saving writers from making damm fools of themselves while writers think copy editors are nitpicking their priceless prose into muddy mundane mutterings.
I got to that point by a roundabout way this morning.
I was surprised to see a heavy coating of frost on the neighbor’s windshield as we set out in the dark. I did not think it was supposed to get that cold.
Our daughter earned the right to play in the Kan-Will band last night, the first of our kids to earn the honor.
One of the powerful influences on daughter in sticking with music, believe it or not, was Hannah Montana.
Yes, Hannah Montana, “The Best of Both Worlds” Hannah Montana.
Now, I am enough of a dirty old man to appreciate in a perverse way how Miley Cyrus is trying to shed that image and remake herself.
Anybody worth a damm remakes themselves at least once or twice in their lives.
Though I will say Miley Cyrus is certainly doing a complete turnaround from that Hannah Montana phase.
Which took me back to a memory of Billy Ray Cyrus and his international smash, “Achy Breaky Heart.”
When his hit came out, I was working as a sports reporter for Suburban Life Newspapers in the western suburbs.
One slow day, the main copy editor happened to mention how much she loved “Achy Breaky Heart.”
A half-grown rabbit tried to freeze-hide as we walked the alley by the bus barn, then bolted. I happened to look farther down the alley and saw two full-grown rabbits feeding in other yards. Apparently there was enough breeding going on that rabbits have survived.
That so pissed off the main news reporter that he went on a rant about the simplicity of the song. By way of comparison, he mentioned how complex the songs of the Beatles were.
That’s where he lost me. I am a Stones guy and could probably live without the Beatles just fine thank you.
A large fish chased bait fish, which surprised me considering the chill, on the surface of the south old clay pit. Only seven hedge apples were down on the east side of the south pit, so I did not pick one to take home to my wife..
At any rate, he got so worked up that he stormed out of the office. The copy editor said she still liked the song. I agreed with her. That catchy song made my drive down I-55 from the North Side to Downers Grove a lot easier.
I am not sure Billy Ray Cyrus was worth that much anger on his part, but then I am not a musician.
Back in town, the bank thermometer said 41. It was a lot colder than that. And it was, 34 on my thermometer behind the garage when we got back home. The heat was on for the first time this fall as we came back in.
