A click of the odometer

Today marks my second year here at NCPR. My fellow newsies asked me to write a bit about the first time I came to the North Country.

The back story: I was working at a pubradio station in Salt Lake City and heard about an opening at NCPR. I e-mailed news director Martha Foley and told her I’d be in Burlington, attending a journalism conference. She said I could rent a car and drive to Canton for an interview.

So, in addition to the rubber chicken, exploding pens and other accoutrements of journalistic conferences, I packed a suit and shiny black shoes, too. But I forgot a necktie.

“No worries,” I thought. I’ll just pick one up between Burlington and Canton. [Insert knowing chuckle here]

After driving three hours across the North Country, I was pretty sure the last thing I’d see was a tie. I rolled into Canton about 15 minutes before my interview and saw a sign for a dry cleaner. This was my only hope. While wire hangers seem to breed in our home closets, neckties practice their reproductive skills at dry cleaners.

I asked the woman behind the counter if she had any ties, she just smiled and motioned for me to follow. She walked into a back room piled high with clothes. She said they were all abandoned and would be donated to Goodwill.

“You can take as many ties as you want.”

I took a blue one, and got the job. But now I can’t find my rubber chicken.

Thanks for two great years and, hopefully, many more.