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Why writing a column is better than working for a living
Smiley
Anders "When I speak to various groups, I seldom mention my prostate surgery, and I almost never show my scar. This group, of course, has more of an interest in the subject than most, so I'll mention it before going on to talk about the column, and why writing it is better than working for a living. I suppose my experience was not all that unique. I was visiting my pulmonary specialist, Dr. Richard Vath, at Baton Rouge Clinic, for chronic bronchitis when Dr. Vath, an internist in addition to his speciality, noted that I was 60 and asked when my last physical had been. I told him that if he gave me one it would be my first. So he shook his head, refrained from telling me how stupid I'd been, and started the physical exam. Part of it, of course, was the famed digital rectal exam. During the exam he discovered what he called a nodule. I was immediately dispatched to a urologist, Dr, Mark Posner, who just as quickly scheduled a biopsy. He said the odds were 10 to 1 that I didn't have a malignancy. I figured those were good odds, and didn't worry about it. A short time later I was having dinner with my wife (we had been married in February and it was now April) when Dr. Posner called and told me I had cancer.
I don't need to describe to any of you what that feels like. I met with both my doctors to discuss options. Dr. Posner gave me books on the subject, and my wife began surfing the Internet for medical journal articles on the subject. As it turned out, it was the right choice for me. The tumor was on the wall of the prostate, just about to break loose and cause God knows what kind of havoc. Any delay would have had very serious consequences. Because the surgeon was fairly sure he had gotten all of the cancer before it had left the prostate, he left it up to me whether or not I wanted to have radiation as a follow-up. I decided not to. In June, it was five years since my surgery, and my PSA is still less than zero, which is a fine number. Of course there are side effects. Medication and the Kegel exercises have controlled incontinence, and while Viagra and the pump didn't work for me, injections worked just fine, once I got over the fear of being stuck where no guy likes to think about getting stuck. I don't think of myself as a survivor, just a very dumb but very lucky guy who met up with a caring doctor at precisely the right time. Not a very dramatic story, I admit, but that's what happened. ____________________ WHY WRITING A COLUMN IS BETTER THAN WORKING FOR A LIVING When I started this thing nearly 25 years ago I had no idea what I was doing. Yes, I know, things haven't really changed much. Anyhow, here's how I got into what I call, for lack of a better word, positive journalism. I was doing business news for The Advocate when an editor had the idea that we needed an items column of some kind. I must have looked idle at the time, because he called me over and asked if I wanted to do it. It sounded like fun, and indeed it has been. But it was kind of slow getting off the ground. I didn't know what direction I wanted it to go, so I was just kind of winging it. At that time I must say I was a bit on the cynical side; I mean, after all, in journalism you have to deal with a lot negative things. Look at the front pages: fires, floods, earthquakes, wars, sessions of the legislature; disasters like that. And you have to deal with unsavory people when you cover news: dope dealers, burglars, armed robbers, lawyer, like that... So I had yet to learn the capacity for good deeds possessed by the people of The Advocate's circulation area, which is basically all of south Louisiana outside New Orleans.
But one afternoon as I sat staring at the column, about one inch short of having enough copy so I could leave and join some friends at the Pastime who were to join me for root beer and pizza, I had a call. He fixed it, waved to her, and drove off. She told me that she had been so flustered she din't get his name, and didn't have a chance to thank him. Would you please thank him for me? she asked. "Maybe he'll see it in your column and know how grateful I am" I told her I would do what I could. According to everything I learned in journalism school, it was a non-story. I didn't have his name or her name, I didn't know exactly where or when it happened; I didn't have anything except the information that one person helped another person out of what could have been a very dangerous situation, taking a little time to be a good neighbor and Good Samaritan. As it happened, if I used it so I could finish my column and join my friends at the Pastime, so I dropped it in, thinking no more about it. But the next day I got a few more calls like that on my answering machine: people had had car trouble and been helped by a stranger: a flat tire had been fixed in the rain by a stranger: a lost wallet or purse had been returned and so on. The next day I got cards and letters with such incidents on them. Then I started getting faxes too; when we went to the e-mail I got even more. I got that call from that lady almost 25 years ago, and I do the column six days a week.. Since she called there has never been a day when I haven't had more of these items than I can possibly use. Right now, if you sent me a "Good Samaritan" item tomorrow, it would be three weeks to a month before I could get it in. I find that extraordinary, and a testament to the goodness of the people in this area. It made a believer out of me. Of course, I also try to get a little humor in the column. Sometimes, as you've noticed, very little humor. Here are a few letters that you folks requested, just to show what really weird readers I have: ________________ Dear Smiley: I read with interest your comments about "whoppers." Have you heard the one about the guy driving on that real winding road from Plaquemine to Grosse Tete one dark night a number of years ago? It seems that he was in a hurry and couldn't get around the car ahead of him. He blew his horn constantly, but whether he tried to go by on the left or right, those tail light were always in the way. When he finally arrived at his destination, he realized he had been blowing his horn at his own tail lights. Smiley, in those days THAT WAS REALLY A CROOKED ROAD! Paul E. Marionneaux, Rosedale _________________ Dear Smiley: My entry for the shortest poem about the indescribably subtle pleasures of living in our "Dream State" is:
LA. Bruce Gremillion, Baton Rouge _____________ Dear Smiley: I saw this sign in front of a small grocery store in south Louisiana: "Boudin, Beer and Rolaids." Sally Morgan, Baker _______________ Dear Smiley: I took two guests to a well-known seafood house for lunch.. The waiter told us of the special--fillet of trout topped with crab meat smothered in "manure" sauce. We thought we misheard him, but when he took our order for trout meuniere he repeated this barnyard confection. Obviously just up from the farm John R. Wilbourne, Baton Rouge Dear John: What I can't understand is how you still ordered it after that description! _________________ Dear Smiley: Reading of the LSU-Tulane game, my mind travels back to 1924, when that meeting was the high note of the football season. The week before the game, the LSU cadet battalion, of which I was a member, sat or stood or paced with fixed bayonets just in case some Tulanians might take it into their heads to raid the campus and paint it olive and blue. There was high anticipation, excitement-the very air was electric Today-ho hum. The kids of both schools have lost something. Bill Bodin, Baton Rouge Dear Bill: Maybe so-but I don't think I really miss those fixed bayonets... ____________________ Dear Smiley: In a recent column, you were wondering, among other things, why sore irate Aggie had not shot at you after reading your column and its Aggie jokes. About the best reason that I can offer is that Aggies learn at our fine vet school to be kind to dumb animals. Mike Sliman, Eunice _______________________ Dear Smiley: Our Istrouma macho image is going fast. First they destroyed our institutions-Hopper's, Ourso's and Hebert's Then they corrupted our ideals-Bryan Vaughn and Maury Drummond have actually appeared on the Society page. Now the "noblest Indian of them all, Smiley Anders, is seen not at, but IN, and opera-complete with makeup and tutu! Is nothing sacred anymore? Hots Aull, Class of '54, Istrouma High School Dear Hots: I can understand your concern. But let me assure you I was NOT wearing a tutu when I made my debut in "Carmen". I was wearing short black velvet sequined pants, black stockings, a white lace shirt. bolero jacket, a velvet cape with gold trim, and big hat with a feather in it. Hope this puts your mind at ease..." |
