A Lot Can Change in a Dozen Years

Friday, April 15, 2005

Page 15

AT THE SIDEBAR (Column)

A Lot Can Change in a Dozen Years

By J’AMY PACHECO

Quite a few things happened in 1993.

Bill Clinton became president, implemented his “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy regarding gays in the military, and signed the Brady bill regulating gun purchases.

Ruth Bader Ginsburg was appointed to the Supreme Court, federal agents engaged in a now-legendary standoff with Branch Davidians in Texas, the World Trade Center was bombed (but remained standing), and the House of Representatives approved the North American Free Trade Agreement.

In 1993, a first class postage stamp cost 29 cents. “Unforgiven” received the Best Picture Oscar, while “Picket Fences” was named outstanding drama series on television. On Broadway, “Kiss of the Spider Woman — the Musical” and “Angels in America — Millennium Approaches” received Tony Awards. Eric Clapton cleaned up at the Grammy Awards, and “Jurassic Park” and “Groundhog Day” drew audiences to theaters.

A 13-year-old boy accused singer Michael Jackson of molestation.

A woman named Lorena Bobbitt did something newsworthy, too. I’m too embarrassed to spell it out, but let’s just say a lot of men suddenly became a great deal nicer to their wives.

In 1993, the first version of Windows NT — version 3.1 – was released containing six million lines of code. (I have no idea what that means, either, but I found it in an almanac and thought it was too funny to leave out.)

Oh, and I wrote my first newspaper column.

It’s hard to believe that I’ve now been at this for a dozen years. If the years were donuts, they’d have gone to my hips a long time ago. If they were eggs…well, enough of that. (Note to self: eat a good breakfast before writing columns.)

When I wrote my first column, Richard Nixon, Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, John F. Kennedy, Jr. and his wife, Carolyn; Jerry Garcia, George Burns, Charles Schulz, Dale Earnhardt, Ann Landers, Bob Hope, Fred “Mister” Rogers, Ronald Reagan, Christopher Reeve and Gene Kelly were alive.

When I started writing a column, I was childless. Today, I have a 9-year-old daughter who keeps me on my toes, and makes sure I don’t run out of material.

Writing a column isn’t something I set out to do. In fact, asked about my future plans while in the fourth grade, I announced that I planned to marry a millionaire.

Oops.

My column-writing career started in what I suspect was a rather unusual fashion. I wrote a letter to the editor of a small local newspaper, and he phoned to ask if I would consider writing a monthly column about a local civic organization. I said I would.

When I turned in my third or fourth column, the editor made the mistake of complimenting me on getting my articles in on-time, without any necessary follow-up.

“And you don’t even get paid,” he remarked, to his eventual regret.

Shortly thereafter, I stopped working for free and his boss hired me to write a chatty little weekly column titled, “Around Town,” covering local people and events.

There were a lot of strange people living in my town then, so it wasn’t much of a stretch for the column to occasionally turn out to be kind of funny.

In 1995, the Metropolitan News Company bought the paper, and I went with it. Here I am, wondering how it’s possible that 624 weeks have passed, and my pen has not yet run out of ink.

Writing a column is the most fun I’ve ever had working, and I want to express 10 years worth of gratitude to Co-Publishers Roger Grace and Jo-Ann Grace, for giving me the opportunity to do so for such a long time. I consider myself fortunate, and am grateful.

Thanks, also, to the production people who never yell at me when I’m late and who have yet to put my words in upside-down — Oscar, Francisco and Pete.

My thanks also go to those readers who have, over the years, sent letters and e-mails, phoned, or mentioned in person something I’ve written. It reassures me to know that somebody out there actually reads what I’ve written — besides my mom, of course.

If you’ve read this far, then please accept my thanks to you, too.

It’s been a great 12 years. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a nagging desire to track down some donuts…