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True It is, Without Falsehood, Certain and Most True

For a journalist at a weekly paper,guilty about not having a job that I went,
especially one as small as the Carrier, Thefor the first and only time, to Wickenden's
Day the Paper Comes Out is a day of rest. ICareer Promotion Center. There I filled out
usually strolled into the office aroundquestionnaire after questionnaire, and I
eleven, caught up on correspondence, read alltalked to chipper recent grads with sweater
of the magazine articles I hadn't been ablesets and pearl necklaces, loafers and the
to read during the week, made somebeginnings of beer guts. I looked through job
long-distance personal calls, pretended toads that made no sense. My favorites were
start thinking about next week's pieces, andfrom the consulting firms: "You will learn to
left at five sharp. If I was feelingimplement strategic management protocol
virtuous, I'd file some of my week's notesdecisions," et cetera. I worried that I would
and clear a landing strip on my desk, butturn into some sort of cyborg after three
usually I saved that for when I was onweeks at one of these places; I would return
deadline and needed mindless industry tohome for my first Thanksgiving and
clear my head. Not that a deadline reallycommunicate via streams of ticker tape
mattered all that much: Lincoln, Connecticut,issuing from my mouth.After a couple of hours
like many small towns, specialized in newsof Career Promoting, I felt certain that I
with a long shelf life. Anyway, nobody waswould live a long, lonely, useless life and
going to lose a job if an article detailingdie alone and unmissed (did I mention that I
the controversy over the high school's mascotnever bothered filling out any grad-school
-- the Fighting Sioux: culturallyapplications?). It's self-indulgent, I know,
insensitive, respectfully traditional, orbut this is what happens to the overachieving
traditionally respectful? -- didn't make it.but essentially useless children of parents
First of all, the debate would recur nextwho raised their children to do well on tests
year, probably in the fall, right about thebut failed to equip them with the
time ambitious seniors wanted to polish theirpoison-tipped spurs of true ambition.Art
agit-cred for college. Second, we had anRolen called Career Promotion as I was
endless supply of ads, announcements,getting ready to trudge home and maintain a
notices, and just plain filler we couldfull schedule of feeling sorry for myself. I
recycle or resize if the cub reporterremember watching the face of my Career
couldn't quite ride without trainingFinder become radiant, just beatific, as she
wheels.And the times when I couldn't werenodded with increasing excitement and finally
getting more and more infrequent. I had beensaid into the phone, "Sir, I think I have
working at the Lincoln Carrier for almost asomeone for you sitting right across from me.
year and a half, ever since graduating fromHe's not from the college paper, but his
Wickenden University. I had friends who hadGibson-Montaneau scores indicate that he
slid seemingly without thought from collegemight be a rilly, rilly good fit for you."She
to med school or law school, or to fancywinked twitchily at me and handed me the
consulting jobs or some sort of literaryphone with one hand while making a
underling work in New York, as though those1983-vintage thumbs-up sign with the other. I
things were just what you did. I had no suchsaid hello, and this drawly growl in the
prospects, nor did I much want to go back toearpiece said, "Well, I hear those Gibbon-
New York, where I grew up. Actually, I had aMartindale numbers of yours are really adding
vague plan to attend graduate school andup. But here's what I want to know: What do
eventually settle down to live thethey mean? And can you write?"I tucked the
cloistered, quiet life of a history professorphone into my chest and turned away from my
in some picturesque little college townCareer Finder's blinding enthusiasm. "Well, I
(steeple, main street called Main Street,don't really know what they mean, to tell you
movie theater with a marquee), someplacethe truth. They seem to put some stock in
where I could get all of my aging out of thethem here, I guess. And technically I'm not
way in my early thirties and live withoutfrom the college paper: I wrote for them
crises or surprises, changing onlyevery so often. I guess I can write well
incrementally for the rest of my allottedenough. Where is it you're calling
threescore and ten.I hadn't really thought offrom?""Lincoln, Connecticut. About two hours
becoming a journalist, mostly because Iwest of Wickenden. I run a small weekly paper
didn't really understand how one did it. Ihere, about sixteen pages. What I need is
had turned out a few music and book reviewsanother fulltime, little-bit-of-everything
for my college paper, mainly for the freekind of person. Right now it's just me and a
books and CDs; I would read or listen tocolumnist, and we got an ad lady. The other
something, write a couple hundred words aboutfull-timer we had just left, got a job in
it, and a week later I'd see my name aboveStorrs. Greener pastures, I guess. Anyway,
some prose that bore a passing resemblance toyou'd do a little reporting, little writing,
what I had written. A racket, not alittle editing, little paper shuffling, some
career.After graduation I had just stayed onoffice work." I heard the muffled hoosh of a
in the same apartment I lived in during thecigarette being smoked. "Some phone
year: I had no reason to be anywhere else. Aanswering, but no more than anyone else.
month into that stagnant summer, I declinedNothing fancy. No Woodstein stuff. Maybe a
my father's offer/mandate to work as away to see if you want to do something like
paralegal at his friend's law firm inthis or not."I shrugged, then remembered that
Indianapolis, where my father had moved aftershrugs don't translate over the phone.
my parents finally split. He made me feel so"Sounds interesting. Sure.



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