The Baboon Congress

My Brief Career as a Gardening Correspondent

42 Comments

Today’s guest post comes from Jim.

I have only had one job where I was paid as a writer. Somehow, about 20 years ago, I got a call from a magazine that covers gardening asking me if I would like to be their regional gardening correspondent for zone 4. It could be that they remembered contacting me a couple of times regarding the collection of spinach seed that I was offering through the Seed Saver’s Exchange. I had done some unpaid articles that were published a few places and was pleased to have the opportunity.

veggies

I was familiar with the job because I was a regular reader of the magazine and had even used tips given by previous zone 4 correspondents. I went right to work providing the same kind of advice that I had received. Actually, if you look at what is published for gardening tips, it seem everyone is stealing from everyone else because they are all saying about the same thing.

There was very little editing of what I wrote and I got almost no feed back. Occasionally I got carried away and put in some of my own rather rambling thoughts on gardening. Things started to change. At first I was published in the magazine. Latter the regional correspondents were left out of the printed magazine and only published online. The editors were in the process of spiffing up their publication and they were moving away from the old approach where the advice from people like me was a regular feature. I think some of those rambling articles I wrote gave them a clue that I wasn’t a very polished writer. They still have regional correspondents in their online publication. I’m not one of them.

It was the magazine’s old folksy approach that appealed to me, but it isn’t surprising that they wanted to go to a more polished style to fit in with all the other glossy magazines on the market. I did run into a couple of people who read what I wrote and liked it, and I talked to one of the old editors who was let go when they changed their style and he thought the old way was better, too.

But he didn’t even recall that I had been a correspondent during the time that he was the editor.

When have you expected someone to remember you, but they didn’t?

42 thoughts on “My Brief Career as a Gardening Correspondent”

  1. Actually, I have the opposite problem: people are constantly coming up to me saying, “Do you remember ME??” I may have danced near or with them a time or two years ago, but they remember this. Sometimes, I lie and say, “Yes – how are you?” At other times, I’ll just say that I recall dancing with them even though I don’t. Like many people, I have a real problem with remembering names – almost as though I block them. There are too many folks I’ve chatted with for years when I’m out and whose names allude me to this day. So much time has passed that it’d be embarrassing to inquire this late in the game.

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    1. Good morning. The opposite is more the case for me like it is for you, CB. It is kind of embarrassing to have someone say hello as if they know you when you can’t remember who they are. I think this happens to me because I like to visit with people, but can’t remember them latter even thought I had a long conversation with them.

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    2. I also have the same problem as CB and Jim: people remember me and I can’t remember them. I once had someone I went to kindergarten with come up and start talking to me in a restaurant (I think I was in my early 20s at the time). Even when she told me her name I had no idea who she was. Frequently, I’d be asked a question at the reference desk, back when I was still librarianing, and the person would leave to browse while I found the answer, forcing me to wander the library looking for a woman who might possibly have been wearing a red sweater, or asking people if they’d asked me a question. Hey, at least I always remembered which gender the person was, what more do you want?

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  3. I often have people I worked with when they were children come up to me and start up conversations as though no time has passed, and I have to struggle to recall who they are. Sometimes, though, I have talked to former clients who don’t remember much of anything we did together, and that is really a humbling experience.

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  4. i ran into my mechanic from when i was a kid the other day. i went up to him and greeted him with a big hello michael how the hell are you? he responded with, well not as good as 40 years ago but who is? and tht was it. i ran into him in the same spot the next week and went up to him again and told him how good it was to see him ans asked what he was up to these days. he gave me a smile and a shuffle and said help me out my memory isnt as good as it used to be. and i laughed. i dont look very much like i did when i was 18 or 21 or however old i was when he moved his gas station to the new location where he worked until he was done.
    he was really something. a fun guy for a friend but not a guy youd want to marry your sister. he was laughing when i asked about his kid who is a couple of years younger than me. you know youre old he said when your kid has an aarp card. i will ask him if he still works on cars next time i see him i culd use a good mechanic again. its been a while.

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  5. In my costuming salad days, it was a common occurrence for me to run into people I had recently worked with in the fitting room who did not recognize me at all, certainly could not come up with my name. I guess I looked different when they had their clothes on 😉

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    1. That reminds me of an incident at the funeral of an acquaintance a couple of years ago. During the luncheon afterwards, a woman approached me and asked how I was doing. She must have sensed that I didn’t recognize her for she said: “I’m Fran.” I instantly knew who that was, and remembered that the last time I saw her was in a sauna in a mutual friend’s cabin. She laughed when I responded: “I didn’t recognize you with your clothes on.” Fran and her husband Dale, live in Colorado and I have them only a couple of times, but through our mutual friends, John and Linda, I’m constantly hearing reports about Fran and Dale, so there’s a sense of knowing them well even though I don’t.

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  6. jim i like your straightforward approach to writing. the subject is presented. the discussion is introduced, the conclusion is reached and the article is over. who could ask for anything more. i watch cbs morning news before the network comes on they have local coverage and a while ago they brought in a 30 something traffic woman who is energetic, active and bubbly. it made the two anchors look like tired old wood and after 6 months or so the new 30 something anchors were introduced to us and the old dead wood is now the weekend and holiday replacement team for the station. the other day the two new anchors the weatherman and the traffic woman were all repelling down the side of some 30 story building in downtown minneapolis. one was scared to death of heights but evidently wanted her job so down she went. the traffic woman also recently showed us how to get up on top of other peoples shoulders in the formation of a pyramid while on water skis for the audience to ooohh over. i think the media is a little too slick today and the replacement of ann curry with the white 30 something woman who would appeal to rating points left me cold. sometimes i enjoy good creative writing and some of the short blips i see in magazines and e publications seem to be written just as an exercise in writing where no value is reached at the end. i often look up informational stuff on the internet and there i look for content not writing style. there is something to be said for saying what needs to be said and making sure the idea desired is the one you end up with. seed savers and the folks who have your experience to call on are lucky to have a straight shooter giing out information.

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    1. tim, sometimes I think I have some skill as a writer and other times I can see that I do not have all the skills of a professional writer. I am learning, from the editing of my guest blogs done by Dale, to clean up my writing and make it more readable. I do like an approach where people tell it like it is in their own style that I referred to as folksy in my blog entry.

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    2. Your post reminded me that Barbara Walters is finally retiring at the end of the year. Although she’s 83, she’s “aged”
      (I hate that word) better than virtually all of her male cohorts and appears to be sharp as a tack still. She seemed to have a special gift at getting folks to open up and even cry. This, in turn, reminds me of Dr. Joyce Brothers who wound up advertising Life Alert systems. Since I’m so not aging gracefully, it’s hard to watch celebrities only a decade or so older fade into oblivion in their eighties until the announcement of their deaths appears. Brothers died a month ago.

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  7. Rise and Remember Baboons!

    I am frequently in the position of remembering people who don’t remember me. Even at this late date in my life, my memory is good, especially for faces and names. Years ago at an Iowa State Football game, I ran into my former brother and sister-in-law from my marriage to wasband. SIL did not recognize me at all, although BIL did. She was quite embarrassed. Awkward.

    Recently at a concert I ran into someone who’s face I recognized. I still cannot place her, which is unusual. I am always reluctant to say hello first because should it be a former client, it is against the rules to approach them first. Many do not want to acknowledge knowing or having a therapist. However, there are other clients or former clients who hug me in the middle of Target then proceed to inform my companion (mother, husband, son, friend) of their entire history and their love for me. No middle ground there.

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  8. In those years when I edited a popular regional outdoors magazine, mine was the most recognizable face in that magazine. In addition to the articles and editorials I wrote, I wrote the final column, which was usually funny or sentimental. That was the part of the magazine people remembered best, and it ran under a sketch of my face (and the face of my dog). Many of my articles ran with photos of me in them. It was common for strangers to approach me and start talking about the magazine, especially since I was spending so much time in key hunting and fishing areas. That was not awkward for me, since I couldn’t be expected to know strangers who knew me.

    I was often surprised at the absence of any feedback from readers, especially when I poured my heart into a column. Sometimes I would write a column that was loaded with emotion, and yet I might not get a single letter or phone call about it. What I finally learned is that readers didn’t generally know that writers, even professional writers, care about that kind of feedback. They all assumed my mailbox was filled with appreciative letters, and it never occurred to them that I was always hoping to hear from them.

    One column that I was sure would draw some comments instead got no response at all. It was like it had never existed, and I felt sad that a piece that meant so much to me had apparently failed to make a connection with readers. Then, several years later, I met a stranger hunting in South Dakota. He knew my name and my dog’s name. As we talked, he mentioned that column that had disappointed me because nobody ever mentioned it. He said that his son had loved that piece so much he taped it to the wall over his bed.

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    2. I think it is often hard to tell if something you wrote or did has had any impact. Occasionally you might find out in unexpected ways that someone has paid attention to what you said or did as you mentioned above, Steve.

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    3. I really relate to this special kind of disappointment, Steve. Three years ago, I opened my own Caring Bridge site somehow knowing that it would become a lifeline through that ordeal. Indeed it did! I wrote prolifically about everything I was experiencing day after day, only missing the two days in ICU following my 9-hour surgery. I was passionately tethered to life through this wonderful venue and wound up with about 400 pages by the end of the first year. Caring Bridge has a function called “Guestbook” where people can leave caring, supportive comments. Day after day, I’d look for these and often be so let down at their absence especially since over 200 people, many of whom had only heard about the site and didn’t personally know me, were following the story religiously.

      I later learned that someone who worked in management at Target had spread the word and that dozens were following the story! I guess most people just don’t realize how touching it is to get a response when you’ve shared your heart? I’m back into journal entries now once again since my dancing brain waves were discovered three months ago and plan to leave the site “active” indefinitely just in case. I write with humor, vitality, and unending curiosity about the intricate relationship between mind, body and spirit. I’ve long since learned to lower my expectation to nearly zero when it comes to people leaving any notes, though.

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  9. When we were visiting the Fortress of Louisbourg on Cape Breton Island, one of the reenactors stopped me and said that she was certain she knew me, but just couldn’t place me. She said she was sure about it since I looked so Scottish with my height and my blue eyes. Was I one of her former teachers, she wondered? I was sorry to have to disappoint her, and we had a good laugh about my “Scottish” appearance, given how Dutch and German I am.

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  10. Like several other baboons, I’m more likely to be the one that doesn’t remember. Some people are more memorable than others, no doubt about that, but it seems so random who sticks in my mind and who doesn’t. A few years ago, Hans and I were having dinner in small Mexican restaurant here on the West Side. I noticed a couple at another table and the woman seemed very familiar to me, but I couldn’t place her. After a while, it came to me. She was a secretary who had worked for me thirty years earlier, and I even remembered her name. As we were leaving I stopped by their table and asked her if her name such and such, and she confirmed that it was. I then told her who I was. She said she remembered me well, but hadn’t recognized me. I have absolutely no idea why I remembered her; she was a temp who worked a few days at a time only occasionally, and as far as I was concerned, she had no distinguishing physical characteristics. We had a nice chat. Turns out she was still in contact with one of the firm’s partners as they went to the same church.

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  12. Morning all. Like others on the Trail, I am often the forgeter, not the forgetee. I have more trouble with people out of place — you know, somebody you know from church that you suddenly meet in the grocery store. Or somebody that you used to work with that you see at the library. Somehow the way I categorize people in my brain makes it more likely that I won’t remember their name if they aren’t in the place I usually see them. Hmmm, wonder why.

    About ten years ago I was traveling with a client in Arizona, visiting the Palm Springs Zoological Gardens. We were standing in a clumb when one of the zoo docents came up to me and said “Are you Joe Bill Carter’s daughter?” I was a little struck dumb… this was a woman who was friends with my parents when I was a child. I probably had not seen her for about 30 years at that point. After I knew who she was, I could kinda remember her, but would never have known her if she hadn’t known me.

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    2. I have the same experience, VS. Both with being recognized as “Carolyn’s daughter” (more often my mother than my father – but the resemblance there is stronger) and with not fully recognizing people out of context. I ran into a woman once at a movie who I was part of a service group I belonged to at the time – took me until half way through the movie to place her. And then there was the time I ran into my dentist at the grocery store – he came over to say hello, we chatted a bit and then went off to do our shopping. When I saw him another two aisles over, I realized I recognized his shoes…and that he was my dentist (but I placed the shoes in context before the face – eep).

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  13. I’m sure it’s happened, but I can’t remember. My bet is we remember more easily the times we are embarrassed by not remember, which are legion. I am regularly sheepish when I can’t remember dancers’ names at Tapestry – more people know me because I teach or “dj” regularly, so my name is sometimes announced.

    I do recall seeing an “old timer” dancing at a recent Tapestry workshop – hadn’t seen her for a couple decades, but I remembered her name, and she seemed to at least recognize my face. 🙂

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  14. I frequently test people for dementia. It is very disconcerting for me to test someone who I have known for 25 years, who doesn’t remember me at all when they arrive in my office for an evaluation. I can only imagine how that would be for family members.

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      2. I was glad, for my daughter’s sake, that my father left this world before he was unable to recognize immediate family. He had not recognized other folks for some time – and it was spotty. People he had known since he was a kid were recognizable, folks he saw every week he might not. Co-workers were 50/50. I was grateful to whatever powers-that-be that he never reached a point where he didn’t recognize his granddaughter (though the last week or so he only knew that she was someone he loved, but maybe not her name…just that she was an important child. That was enough).

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        1. My parents are both in their 90’s, and are doing pretty well, all things considered. My dad’s memory has taken a small hit since his heart attack and stroke, but it hasn’t affected him much. He told me the other day that he thought he was failing since he is always tired and only wants to sleep all the time. He still volunteers as a greeter at the hospital and has coffee with his friends everyday. Vascular dementia, not Alzheimer’s, is what happens in my family.

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  15. I am always pleasantly surprised when someone recognizes me, which I guess means that I assume mostly people won’t know me from Adam. I have grown used to kids from my daughter’s school greeting me at the grocery store, park, library, etc. – after 4 years of presenting in classrooms, there are a fair number of kids in the 8-10 age range who know me. Sometimes I remember their names, sometimes not – mostly they call me “Music Lady” or “Solveig’s Mom,” which at least helps me place them. Hopefully they’ll still call me that when they are 18 or 20 and recognize me, or I will be sunk.

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    1. There are some of the kids that I had in class as a sub teacher that I remember and greet when I see them. There is no way I would be able to remember all of those that were in the rooms where I subbed.. I remember some of them because I saw them many times during the years I did subbing. The difficult kids got my attention and there are many of those among the ones I remember. There were also some kids that were outstanding students and some that had interesting personalities that I remember.

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  16. It is interesting to meet someone outside the context you usually know them by. I was at an art fair several years ago when a woman in one of those tents struck me as someone I knew. Surprisingly, I was able to remember her as a bag packer and checkout clerk I knew at Lunds. Seeing her selling jewelry that she and her husband had crafted was odd for me, for I realized she was more intelligent and complex than the cheerful, pretty assistant I knew at Lunds. I tried to use that experience as a lesson. We shouldn’t make assumptions about people based only on their occupation.

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  17. It must be an indication of my degree of self-esteem but I often assume that people won’t know or remember me. I know who tons of people are at church (perusing the church directory is a hobby when times are slow) but I still assume that people won’t know me even though I’ve been around for almost 25 years and have held some minor leadership roles. Some of these low expectations may come from the fact that some of the people are movers and shakers within the church and I assume that they don’t know/remember ANY of the jus’ plain folks.

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    1. Lisa, I know this isn’t going to be much consolation, but I’d recognize and remember you anywhere. You’re both a mover and a shaker as far as I’m concerned.

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