On one of the first days of my first newspaper job, my first managing editor said he wished there were no holidays: They made it too complicated to put out a newspaper. I looked at him with pity and disgust: How could a newspaper guy become so shriveled inside that convenience at work outweighed national celebrations?
Twenty years later, and I still think of what he said every time a holiday rolls around. And every year what he said makes more sense. This week I'm buried under monthly billing and subscription renewals, plus early deadlines because of the holiday. So yesterday I worked 15 hours on my day off so I could take a day off on Thursday. Then Friday there's another paper to get out.
I know, I'm old and rotten. Happy Thanksgiving.