Who recieved the last laugh?

Some things never change.

Some things you wish would change for the good of all, including the written word.

Several months ago I blogged about an editing job that nearly was. For more than two years I perseveringly sought employment at a freebie weekly newspaper. They need me. They need my skills as a copy editor. They need someone who genuinely cares about writing and accuracy. The paper’s rife with errors, giving rise to the question of who’s doing the editing, monkeys? Blind monkeys.

Through the years, time after time the paper dropped the ball. Fool that I am, I never gave up. Finally it seemed that my patience and perseverance were rewarded. They offered a part-time editing gig with perhaps some writing down the road.

An hour before I was to begin on the first day, a voice message arrived telling me not to come in, the deal was off.

They dropped the ball for the last time. Game Over. I never contacted them again. I quit trying. I stopped reading the freebie. Quit picking it up.

Until the other day, on a lark. On the front page above the fold, a story by their editor-in-chief:

Can’t say who should be laughing. Or crying.

Advertisement