Off the Cuff

It ain't what it's cracked up to be. I don't care what they say. Who are they anyway? It just ain't.

There. I've fractured the language with the use of that terrible word, AIN'T. And, if I haven't already, I probably will put a couple of commas in the wrong spot. Old habits die hard.

It's this retirement thing that's about to get me down. Just getting ready for it was a full-time job. Cleaning out desk drawers, tossing out this and that, and then retrieving such and such and such from the wastebasket wore me down. You know, I may need it sometime -- like that wad of notes, phone numbers and addresses scribbled on napkins, backs of envelopes and other unidentifiable bits of paper. Yep, that one wad should have been retrieved.

And there are the questions: How do you like retirement? Are you going to travel? How are you doing on the "honey do" list? It's enough to send a feller back to the hammock. But then I remember; those are the same questions I've asked others at their retirements, all very logical banter among friends. It just goes with the territory, so keep it up. There's no telling how I'll answer.

In reality, it ain't so bad after all. I remember the story of a guy in the drugstore, over coffee, giving advice to another recent retiree (let's say Bob Kelley): "You can sleep till ten o'clock, piddle around with a few little odds and ends and then start asking, 'What's for lunch?' or 'supper'? There was more, but you get the picture.

Honestly, I'm not sleeping till ten. During the first few weeks, I mess around in the garden or the house and then it's off for coffee, a trip to the post office, another stop or two, then home for another round of piddling. Louise is very patient with me. She does sort of growl a little if I try to be too helpful with things she does around the house. I've learned -- make that I'm learning -- the hands-off areas pretty quickly.

This brings me to the real reason for this 'cuff: How thankful I am for having the most understanding and patient wife for more than 50 years. I'll never really know how she has endured my odd hours of coming and going to meetings and things, how she has fielded thousands of phone calls at home with messages for me, how she has quietly accepted when something we planned had to be cancelled unexpectedly, all part of being involved in a weekly newspaper. Most of all, she has kept me out of hot water lots of times by calming me down, offering a few words to give me a new perspective about things and, considering the forgetful person I am, being my memory of things that needed doing. That's only the beginning. She'll probably relegate me to the dog house for writing this. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, we don't have a dog house.

A special purpose of this 'cuff is to express my deep appreciation to all of you who have put up with my ramblings down through the years. Whether you agreed or disagreed, friendships have remained steadfast as we all have striven to make Gravette and the area the special place it is. May that friendly community spirit continue as our area grows and progresses as the future unfolds.

There is one other group of people who have meant much: My coworkers, those with whom I have worked or those who worked for me. Their support, patience and especially their friendship have been unparalleled.

I want to say how overwhelmed I was at the retirement reception and presentation by Northwest Arkansas Newspapers and the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette. The outpouring of those who attended, the words, cards, calls from persons have been just that: overwhelming.

I know I didn't get to greet each one who attended. I apologize. I also am not sure of addresses on cards or messages. I thank each of you for your thoughtfulness.

The refreshments were great, the unexpected gifts will be cherished. (I'm even getting a hang of how to operate the new camera my coworkers gave me). A special thanks to Kent Marts, our publisher, who shares with me memories from what I call "the good ole days" of weekly newspapers when we used hot lead, hand set some type and hand fed large sheets of newsprint through the old rumbling, shuddering press. Even those unfortunate times when an error occurred in spelling someone's name or a wrong price got in a grocery store ad. Some, now, are laughable but then ... use your imagination.

Finally, and I really mean this, keep supporting your newspapers. The printed word played an integral part in the formation of our great nation. It continues to be the catalyst in saving and salvaging our republic. Television and radio have parts, as does the social network that too often spreads rumor as fact. All are part of our cherished freedom of speech. But legitimate newspapers, daily and weekly, not gossip publications, still provide a solid core of truth which is what journalism is all about. A talk show comment, a sometimes-staged pictured flashed on a screen, or a false rumor spread in a well-intentioned social media post are part of the equation. But, listen up, newspapers are the solid fact finders and presenters that best foster the American Dream which we must never lose. And that ain't rumor!

P. S. Thank you. And you. And you. And you. For being you. And for helping make these "good old days" even better.

Dodie Evans is editor emeritus of the Westside Eagle observer. Opinions expressed are those of the author.

Editorial on 06/25/2014