Beauregard: It’s time for the next adventure
I sat down at the keyboard to type the column but realized I was out of things to say, and that I could no longer offer anything interesting of value to the readers.
This happened in 2010.
But I kept writing it because we needed the extra money and because being in the paper is an artificial boost to my ego. In fact, I’ll never forget the first reader to ever approach me. It was shortly after the first column appeared, when a middle-aged woman came up to me at City Market.
“Are you the guy in the paper?” she asked.
I beamed. “Yep, I’m the columnist.”
She frowned. “Columnist? I was talking about the registered sex offender.”
But I’ve gotten good feedback too, which is one of the things I’ll miss.
This is my last column. I need to free up time to focus on more important projects, such as researching my fantasy football team.
I also want to spend more time with my family. I know whenever a politician says that, it really means he was caught having an affair with a 23-year-old. However, I did not have an affair with a 23 year-old. Unfortunately.
This column is older than my daughter. At 8, she can read well, which is why we shield the “Trending” section from her each Thursday. Don’t get me wrong, I still want to embarrass her. I just prefer to do so more in person than in print.
It’s such a privilege to be in the paper. In this paper. Every single week I halfway expected to be fired. After all, if you write a column and everyone likes you, you’re not doing it right.
To intentionally stir the pot makes you no different than the kid with the vulgar T-shirt and excessive piercings desperately seeking attention. So I never tried to offend on purpose, and most insults were written in jest.
Like how Mr. JUCO is recovering from an opioid addiction, or how soccer is like watching paint dry but without the intoxicating benefits of paint fumes, or how asparagus is an evil ditch weed, or how I wish we’d see Flo from the Progressive Insurance ads captured by ISIS.
Actually, I still hope for that last one.
Mostly the columns were stupid, lighthearted musings, however, I am sorry for those times when I could have, should have, spoken sweeter.
It’s easy to stand at a construction site on the sidewalk beneath a shade tree barking at the brick layer about all the ways he’s doing it wrong. Far more grueling is it to be the man actually busting his back in the hot sun, laboriously laying brick after brick trying to create something of value. It’s the Tim Fosters, Jamie Hamiltons, Bernie Bueschers and my former West Middle School typing teacher Steve Schultz who give their time making Grand Junction better, more vibrant, and I’m glad to live in a community with such leaders.
It’s time for me to hang up the keyboard. Please indulge me as I thank Jay Seaton for allowing me to occupy valuable real estate in his paper and editor Mike Wiggins for not firing me each week, despite many readers’ wishes.
Thank you to my incredible and beautiful wife, Marie, for always being a good sport. This marks the 675th consecutive week she hasn’t divorced me, although the week isn’t over yet.
Mostly I want to thank you for reading. Each Thursday, tens of thousands of you would get up earlier-than-usual to race out to fetch the paper and skim past the latest meth bust to devour my column, upon which you’d smile and nod with great satisfaction. At least that’s how I picture it in my mind.
I remember one of my earlier columns. Marie was early in her pregnancy with our daughter. I wrote that I was happy and proud, but nervous and scared. We didn’t know what God would have in store for us, but were anxiously anticipating the adventure that lay ahead.
All these years later, I still don’t know what’s around the next corner. But somewhere tucked in and around the mundane routines of life are more adventures to be had, tears to be shed, choruses of laughter waiting to echo off living room walls, and a beautiful world waiting for us to explore. I still get excited thinking about it.
Don’t we all?