These are times to let go of old disputes and resentments. As we shelter in place, cut off from our daily routines and interactions, we have an opportunity to repair our relationships.
It may be an unfortunate analogy, but much like automobiles, relationships need maintenance. Now is the time for a major checkup.
Just posting here on FB, I have been able to reconnect with dozens of friends. According to the latest research, only about 5 percent of my connections on Facebook will see any particular post courtesy of the site's algorithm. That's maybe 70 people.
So I can't expect Facebook to do more than a fraction of the work I need to rediscover old friendships.
My chosen option is to do what I am experienced in doing -- telling stories. This is a natural extension of what I am doing at this point in my life, which is writing a memoir of my 54-year career in journalism.
It's contagious work -- memories stir up other memories. I have always loved those moments when I sense we are onto something big. On the eve of publishing our Patty Hearst/SLA stories in Rolling Stone in 1975, Howard Kohn and I knew we were onto a monster of a story. So did our editor, Jann Wenner.
Jann could be a difficult character, with an explosive temper perhaps fueled by his heavy cocaine habit. But he also knew a story when he saw one, and he saw what we had.
Until that point in my career, I had been a struggling freelancer, with little to show for my efforts other than rejection letters.
But this time would be different. Jann hired a security service, I believe it was Pinkertons, to guard the issue through the printing process. He sent the staff away to a retreat at Ventana, a hot tub resort near Big Sur.
The three of us remained at the office; Howard and I fending off threats from left-wing attorneys who had gotten wind of our impending story, and vowed to prevent the publication of an expose of the true nature of the Symbionese Liberation Army. It wasn't the vanguard of a revolution as they pretended; it was a dangerously misguided gang of thugs.
Meanwhile, Jann was arranging national publicity for our scoop, which would succeed beyond his wildest imaginings.
Life would never be the same after we published that story. Suddenly an entire world of new relationships would be opening up for us. But that's a tale for another day. Today I am just savoring the memory of that pre-publication moment, a moment of excitement, fear and naive expectations.
A moment of hope.
-30-
No comments:
Post a Comment