Feels like twenty. You know how U.S. Presidents age after four years in office. You should see what eight years does to a newspaper publisher. I blew in like Baby Face Nelson and now I see Keith Richards in the mirror.
I gotta repeat my own Yogism from back then: I know when to quit; I just don’t know when to give up.
Now, I’m not one for celebrating anniversaries, but The Rockaway Times is eight years old this week and I have a space to fill in the paper. So, I gotta write something. Just like I did, eight years ago.
Starting a business is like sleeping in your car. You can’t find a motel, you can’t afford a motel, or you run out of gas. You make do. When I realized there was a space in that first edition that had to be filled, we ran a story about a bodega owner in Kew Gardens being convicted on gun charges. It made Page 2. Four hundred and fifteen weeks later, I can say it’s the only Kew Gardens bodega story we’ve run.
You make do. Words to live by.
See, I tend to look forward because looking back can give you the willies. Why go down memory lane, when it’s chockfull of potholes and personal litter. I glanced at some old stuff from 2014 to see what was going on when The Rockaway Times launched in late June. Did I really need to be reminded that Anthony Weiner was still a thing? He was planning to open some kind of restaurant in Rockaway. Jeez.
Starting a business is like a C-section or induced delivery, I imagine. Emphasis on the imagine. You set a date and life changes and sleep deprivation makes you a weird kind of insane. You have God bending over in laughter at all your plans.
In 2014, I was number one on the leader board for mishaps, mistakes, missteps, mismanagement and whatever other misses I’m missing. It still pains me to remember the bakery ad we ran with a coupon that was supposed to say, $4 OFF a Dozen. We forgot the OFF and it read $4 a Dozen. I learned people see our ads: a line was out the door.
I also learned that you can’t predict the future. We all thought we’d be flying around with jetpacks by now and we all thought newspapers would be dead. I can’t say why the jetpacks never took off, but I know why this newspaper is still alive. If I have a talent, it’s for finding people who are great to work with and be around (and know how to save my ass). And The Rockaway Times is still alive because of family, friends, loyal advertisers and you!
And you, means all of you.
Here’s to another twenty.
By Kevin BoyleBLOG COMMENTS POWERED BY DISQUS