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Sometimes it takes the honesty of a loved one to help you see your true self. Hi everyone! Andrew, here, from TBTL. I hope this finds you well. As many of you know, I shaved my beard off a couple of months ago. I didn’t mean to do it. It was truly an accident. I’d been standing at my bathroom sink, using my electric beard trimmer to tidy up a bit. This is something I’ve done hundreds if not thousands of times in my adult life without issue. This time, though, my mind was elsewhere. I was thinking about my big guest appearance on the local public radio station the next day. I was quite nervous about it, and I was preoccupied with what I might say into the microphone that could bring years of shame and embarrassment upon me and my family. While I was imagining my inevitable downfall via the public airways, I had a sudden, awful realization: I never set my beard trimmer to the proper length. I looked up into the mirror and was aghast to see I’d inadvertently shaved big bald patches into my face. Panicking, I tried to rectify the issue by trimming my entire beard down to a very short length. Maybe I could get the bald spots to blend in? When I was finished, it didn’t look great, but I wondered if it was passable. Could I walk into KUOW the next day looking like this? I went upstairs, where Genevieve was watching TV in the living room. Before walking in, I said from outside the door, “Vieves, I kind of made a mistake. Can you tell me if this looks okay?” As I entered the room, Genevieve looked at me for a moment before her eyes widened and she said the truest words she’s ever uttered in our 23 years together: “Oh….sweetie...” She didn’t have to say anything else. Those two words said it all. The entire beard had to go. I bring this up because something analogous happened just last night. In fact, the circumstances are eerily similar. I was, to my surprise, invited back onto the KUOW airwaves today to chat about Seattle-related topics. I knew that one of my fellow panelists would be longtime Seattle Times editorial page editor Joni Balter. I thought it would be funny if I brought a copy of the email that I submitted to the Times’ Rant and Rave column recently. As you may or may not know, I wrote in to “rant” about the erroneous fees I keep finding on my garbage bill each month. I penned what I thought was a funny, but also impassioned blurb that the editors would find quirky and witty and, admittedly, just a tad unhinged. I’ve since spent the past 10 days waking up and wondering, “Is today the day they’ll print my rant in the Times?” And each day, the answer is sadly not yes. So, my big KUOW idea was to read my submission on the air to Joni and ask her if she could help me get the Times to publish it. Or maybe she could help me punch it up a bit. It would be a fun little lark for Seattle’s public radio listeners. Last night, I ran this idea by Genevieve. “Hey Vieves,” I said. “I’m thinking about sharing my rant with Joni on the air tomorrow, see if she can help me get it published.” “I’m sorry?” Genevieve said. “Your what?” “Oh!” I said. “I didn’t tell you? I sent a rant into the Seattle Times about our garbage bills!” Genevieve blinked. “You did what?” “Do you want me to read it to you?” I asked her. I was starting to get a creeping feeling that this whole idea wasn’t necessarily a home run. I opened the “sent” folder of my email and found the submission. It was the first time I’d re-visited it since I shared it with Luke on TBTL moments after writing it. As I read out loud to Genevieve, I realized my rant was different than I remembered it. It was certainly longer than I recalled. And it wasn’t so much “funny” as it was…the ravings of a lunatic who’s lost all perspective? I think I would have reached this conclusion myself, but I didn’t need to. Genevieve was right there. And this time, she didn’t even have to say a single word. Her face said it all: This was not a good idea. None of it was. A certain freedom comes along with this kind of disappointment. I realize now that I hadn’t chosen my words as carefully as I’d thought. And I can now stop rushing to the Seattle Times website each morning to see if today is my lucky day. Because it’s never going to be my lucky day. They’re never going to print my rant. And frankly, I wouldn’t either. But my goodness, am I ever glad I didn’t make things worse by reading it live on public radio! For that -- and many other things -- I’ll forever be grateful to Genevieve. I’m not sure what the takeaway here is, exactly, but maybe there’s a lesson here for all of us. Maybe not. But one thing’s for dang sure: I’m documenting my curbside garbage collections , and I won’t be paying any more extra garbage fees! Your move, Seattle Utilities! Okay, maybe I still have some stuff to work on. Have a great weekend, everyone! We’ll talk to you Monday. Andrew
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