I submitted my first story to the Press Register on Friday. Talk about stress! They have a computer system which at first seemed so intimidating, I was afraid I’d click the wrong thing and accidentally delete their entire newspaper! I must have done an okay job, because later, they sent an email from the Birmingham office and invited me to a Mardi Gras party that night at the Mobile office! The decorated balcony above is the “Hub” for Alabama Media Group and where we got to watch a parade!
“What? A party just for me? Why, what a lovely way to welcome me!”
The Crew of Columbus parade was amazing, especially since I’m accustomed to Fairhope’s somewhat smaller parades. And look who was there . . .
The Budweiser Clydesdales! Love those giant horses!
Everyone at the Press Register was exceedingly nice. They invited me to come work in the office anytime. Even though my stories aren’t terribly political or edgy (unless you count the one where I scolded people for stealing Mardi Gras beads from children), when I stood in front of the first amendment, it made chills run down my spine. I mean, this is what America has that other countries crave. Freedom of speech!
All the employees use shared spaces, so I can just show up and plug my computer in and work in a real office, with real adults whenever I want. No laundry buzzing, dinner to cook, dogs to let in – out, in – out. It’s a real grown up feeling.
It was a cold night, but the Mobile crowd was huge and in a mood to celebrate! We marveled at how quickly the traffic flowed in and out of the downtown area. When you have as many parades as Mobile, I guess you get the hang of it after a while.
The balcony view was totally cool.
The floats were gorgeous and there were tons of marching bands and Dixieland Jazz bands. If they throw a parade for my first story, what do I get for the second?
And here I am at the front door of the office. “He-he, take my picture, take my picture! I feel like Mary Tyler Moore!”
“Don’t throw your hat. You’ll get it dirty” said the husband.
Hey . . . come to think of it, someone was going into the building when we arrived, so we walked in with them, but no one gave me the code to get back in by myself. I don’t think I can get in there again! “Come by anytime” – yeah, right. New-girl initiation gag.
Maybe if I’m really good . . . someday they’ll let me back inside.
Dang it.