In these days of overly lean staffing, doing my job is, at its best, like herding cats. Tonight, however, it was like herding cats blindfolded: it was only with luck and perserverance that I made it through the shift: paralysis over story placement (A depends on B, which depends on what happens with C and D, but then what about E and F?), missing pieces (where's the copy? where's the art?). I knew the wheels had come off when images of mergansers were turned in as photos of loons. How could something like this happen in Minnesota of all places? Let's review:
Not a loon*:
Not a loon**:
Everything worked out fine -- can you say 'file photo'? -- I wound up with a lovely picture of a
for a story about how the birds are stacking up on area lakes -- like fishing boats on opening weekend -- waiting for the ice up north to finish going out. Odd thing for such a solitary creature.
The daily miracle occurred yet again and another newspaper made it to the press. Now, as the evening fades in my rear-view mirror, and the alcohol takes effect, it's another war story.
* common merganser
** red-breasted merganser