Working where everyone cares
By
Rory Ryan-hcpress@cinci.rr.com
Until this past Sunday night, I’d never heard of actor Michael C. Hall. That’s not altogether surprising. There were lots of people on the Golden Globe awards television show I’ve never heard of.
In between brief naps on the couch, I kept hoping and waiting for a real actor to walk on stage and accept a just award. Maybe John Wayne or Lee Marvin or Burt Lancaster. OK. Those guys are dead. I’ll concede that point. But they were my kind of actors.
Michael C. Hall was announced Sunday evening as the best actor in a drama series for his work on something called “Dexter” on Showtime.
I’ve never watched “Dexter” and we don’t have Showtime. And I can’t really say whether Hall can act. Apparently, he can.
Although he did not mention it during his brief acceptance speech, Mr. Hall has cancer.
He wore a black cap to cover his scalp. In his speech, he thanked his wife and co-star Jennifer Carpenter.
He also said something that caught my attention. “It’s really a hell of a thing to go to work at a place where everyone gives a damn.”
It sure is. I am blessed to work in such a place.
I’ve worked in other places where no one gave a damn. I’ve worked in other places where some people gave a damn. I’ve worked in other places where most people gave a damn. But from top to bottom (usually at the top), it’s been a rare thing to find everyone who truly cares about the end result. Sometimes, it’s those at the top who have been the biggest hindrance and the primary cause of others’ relative indifference. (I could write a book!)
Mr. Hall is currently fighting Hodgkin’s lymphoma. I hope he and all cancer patients prove victorious. To borrow from another award-winner at the Golden Globes, cancer is indeed an inglorious bastard.
To shift gears for a moment, two old friends re-entered my life this week. And I am glad that they did. One of them, Jim Surber, you know very well from his insightful newspaper columns.
Jim stopped by The Highland County Press on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day just so he could see the old Boltz-Haggerty X-ray machine. We keep it unplugged these days, but it’s still probably a damned fire hazard!
Jim is the Darke County engineer, as it were. He received a hearty handshake from yours truly and a hug from our bookkeeper. (They go way back.)
I can’t recall the last time I saw Jim, but we’ve managed to keep in touch via e-mail – and I’m glad we have. Although he may not know it, Jim was a pretty big part of my formative years. I can still remember, with a smile, flying down Route 247 in his black Chevy Super Sport, passing anything in sight. I was 11 or 12, so he did most of the driving. And the sense of humor we shared so long ago...it’s amazing how quickly we recalled those moments of laughter and observations on human nature.
It was as plain as two crow {droppings} on a plow handle. No (kidding)...
And then there was last Friday night’s basketball game at Peebles High School. Who should sit down directly beside me but Charlie Palmer. Charlie and I were grade school pals until he transferred from Bright
Local Schools to Ohio Valley Schools.
As it was with Jim, I don’t know when I last saw Charlie face to face. It had to be 20 years or more. Again, we picked up about where we left off, although both a bit grayer around the temples.
In between live action on the basketball court, Charlie was introduced to my wife and son, and I was introduced to his wife. I have a number of stories about Charlie and he probably has an equal number about me.
My dad took both of us to our first Major League baseball game – at old Crosley Field. Dad also took both of us to our first tavern, but I had that experience at a much earlier age than Charlie!
Charlie was the unofficial leader of the long defunct “Cesspool Gang” at old Belfast Elementary School after the formation of the Bright Local School District.
He was the guy most of us looked up to. Heck, we had to look up to him. He was taller than all of us.
Charlie also has a tremendous sense of humor, mixed in with a reasonably good dose of orneriness. There are stories I could share, but some things are best left in the past.
Still, it did my old heart good to talk to Charlie again. One of the things we didn’t talk about was a trick we played on Mrs. Cleveland in the fourth grade. Charlie told her his uncle was Jim Palmer, the great pitcher from the Baltimore Orioles.
Meanwhile, I “let it be known” that Nolan Ryan, another Hall of Fame pitcher, was my dad’s cousin. Charlie did have an uncle named Jim, just not that Jim Palmer. To the best of my knowledge, Nolan Ryan and my dad weren’t related.
Looking back, I’m fairly confident that Mrs. Cleveland knew better. But she did let us listen to the Reds and Orioles in the 1970 World Series.
That memory, like those of so many old friends, is one of my favorites.
Lastly, I met Mr. Jim Moore this week. Jim has been writing, often humorous and generally acerbic newspaper and online editorials for some time.
I was once asked if Jim were my alter ego. No, Jim is the genuine article. A Real McCoy of Public Opinion.
He seems like a rather nice man, too.
Rory Ryan is publisher and editor of The Highland County Press.[[In-content Ad]]
In between brief naps on the couch, I kept hoping and waiting for a real actor to walk on stage and accept a just award. Maybe John Wayne or Lee Marvin or Burt Lancaster. OK. Those guys are dead. I’ll concede that point. But they were my kind of actors.
Michael C. Hall was announced Sunday evening as the best actor in a drama series for his work on something called “Dexter” on Showtime.
I’ve never watched “Dexter” and we don’t have Showtime. And I can’t really say whether Hall can act. Apparently, he can.
Although he did not mention it during his brief acceptance speech, Mr. Hall has cancer.
He wore a black cap to cover his scalp. In his speech, he thanked his wife and co-star Jennifer Carpenter.
He also said something that caught my attention. “It’s really a hell of a thing to go to work at a place where everyone gives a damn.”
It sure is. I am blessed to work in such a place.
I’ve worked in other places where no one gave a damn. I’ve worked in other places where some people gave a damn. I’ve worked in other places where most people gave a damn. But from top to bottom (usually at the top), it’s been a rare thing to find everyone who truly cares about the end result. Sometimes, it’s those at the top who have been the biggest hindrance and the primary cause of others’ relative indifference. (I could write a book!)
Mr. Hall is currently fighting Hodgkin’s lymphoma. I hope he and all cancer patients prove victorious. To borrow from another award-winner at the Golden Globes, cancer is indeed an inglorious bastard.
To shift gears for a moment, two old friends re-entered my life this week. And I am glad that they did. One of them, Jim Surber, you know very well from his insightful newspaper columns.
Jim stopped by The Highland County Press on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day just so he could see the old Boltz-Haggerty X-ray machine. We keep it unplugged these days, but it’s still probably a damned fire hazard!
Jim is the Darke County engineer, as it were. He received a hearty handshake from yours truly and a hug from our bookkeeper. (They go way back.)
I can’t recall the last time I saw Jim, but we’ve managed to keep in touch via e-mail – and I’m glad we have. Although he may not know it, Jim was a pretty big part of my formative years. I can still remember, with a smile, flying down Route 247 in his black Chevy Super Sport, passing anything in sight. I was 11 or 12, so he did most of the driving. And the sense of humor we shared so long ago...it’s amazing how quickly we recalled those moments of laughter and observations on human nature.
It was as plain as two crow {droppings} on a plow handle. No (kidding)...
And then there was last Friday night’s basketball game at Peebles High School. Who should sit down directly beside me but Charlie Palmer. Charlie and I were grade school pals until he transferred from Bright
Local Schools to Ohio Valley Schools.
As it was with Jim, I don’t know when I last saw Charlie face to face. It had to be 20 years or more. Again, we picked up about where we left off, although both a bit grayer around the temples.
In between live action on the basketball court, Charlie was introduced to my wife and son, and I was introduced to his wife. I have a number of stories about Charlie and he probably has an equal number about me.
My dad took both of us to our first Major League baseball game – at old Crosley Field. Dad also took both of us to our first tavern, but I had that experience at a much earlier age than Charlie!
Charlie was the unofficial leader of the long defunct “Cesspool Gang” at old Belfast Elementary School after the formation of the Bright Local School District.
He was the guy most of us looked up to. Heck, we had to look up to him. He was taller than all of us.
Charlie also has a tremendous sense of humor, mixed in with a reasonably good dose of orneriness. There are stories I could share, but some things are best left in the past.
Still, it did my old heart good to talk to Charlie again. One of the things we didn’t talk about was a trick we played on Mrs. Cleveland in the fourth grade. Charlie told her his uncle was Jim Palmer, the great pitcher from the Baltimore Orioles.
Meanwhile, I “let it be known” that Nolan Ryan, another Hall of Fame pitcher, was my dad’s cousin. Charlie did have an uncle named Jim, just not that Jim Palmer. To the best of my knowledge, Nolan Ryan and my dad weren’t related.
Looking back, I’m fairly confident that Mrs. Cleveland knew better. But she did let us listen to the Reds and Orioles in the 1970 World Series.
That memory, like those of so many old friends, is one of my favorites.
Lastly, I met Mr. Jim Moore this week. Jim has been writing, often humorous and generally acerbic newspaper and online editorials for some time.
I was once asked if Jim were my alter ego. No, Jim is the genuine article. A Real McCoy of Public Opinion.
He seems like a rather nice man, too.
Rory Ryan is publisher and editor of The Highland County Press.[[In-content Ad]]