By Ray Brown
Contributing Writer
“A man has got to know his limitations.” I think that line was offered up by the Clint Eastwood character “Dirty Harry” in a movie by the same name. Or maybe it was Homer Simpson. Either way, I’m reminded of the time that I stepped way beyond my limitations, and in a very public venue.
The year was 2003, and I had finished my second stint in writing and editing the Downey HubBub. Sure, there were a few complaints, some hurt feelings, and I seem to recall John Lacey left the club for a few weeks due to some less-than-stellar HubBub comments regarding his bathing habits. Regardless, the HubBub seemed to be a source of some level of interest, at least to the extent it was read by those with an eighth-grade education.
The Downey newsletter got the attention of incoming governor Suzanne Sundberg, who was desperate for a District 5280 newsletter editor. I can only assume that the first 20 people she asked declined the offer, and she opted to scrape the bottom of the barrel and ask me if I’d handle the duties. The request was made in her office with one of her henchmen, er, Assistant Governors, present to employ strong arm techniques, as needed.
To make a long story short, I foolishly agreed to the task. I say “foolishly” because I’d never seen a district-level publication before, and had no frame of reference as to what constituted a District newsletter. You might want to stop reading here and take a look at any District newsletter printed in the last ten years or so. Some commonalities quickly appear: slick, well-written, professional. I would also add the word “dull,” and “unread,” but that would sound self-serving.
What me and my staff of “me” produced was none of the above. Yes, it did come out every month, but that’s where any similarities ended with prior District newsletters. Slick and professional were not adjectives that came to the mind of the reader. I did determine that it was being read because the first complaint appeared right after the first issue. Some Rotarians apparently did not appreciate that my fabricated story of Doug Baker included entering the U.S. as an illegal alien through Tijuana.
The assistant governor that called me into his office to share the story appeared almost sheepish, explaining that some readers apparently did not share my particular sense of humor. He asked for sensitivity in future issues.
Mr. Sensitivity responded. One of my more clever features was a calendar of upcoming Rotary events. Okay, maybe “clever” was a misnomer, but the calendar included celebrity birthdays, and in a concept I boldly stole from David Letterman, I listed December 25 as Celebrity Birthday – Jesus Christ. And oh, the comments came in...
My favorite assistant governor explained that Jim Croce forgot to mention that in addition to not spitting into the wind, or pulling the mask off the old Lone Ranger, you NEVER want to refer to Jesus as a celebrity.
It was during confession later that week that I said two Hail Mary’s, four Our Father’s, and swore to never be a district newsletter editor again. Better to stick to Downey-level publications.
By Ray Brown