Saturday? I think I could manage one day a week even if I am more a broiler than a spring chicken. (Actually, I'm an aspiring vegan so I shouldn't even be using such metaphors.) How much of a broiler? 86. Beat that! And I still haven't really decided what I want to be when I grow up.
Once upon a time – and for a relatively long time -- I wrote a column four days a week (but that was long ago and far away...and under the name of Saunders, and I lived under it. Not Saunders exactly but you get the idea.)
I wrote on this and that, much of it linked to culture as the word is understood in the wider world... even if I do tend to see things differently than the wider world does. Did some real reporting too, but I'm really too shy to have ever been one of those guys. I could never ask a mom to dig out a photo of her boy who just drowned in the school pool. Just don't have that kind of grit. Is it because I'm a girl? I hope so. I would like to die believing there is more softness to the distaff side, although the world has amply proven that that's just wishful thinking. Women are just as ferocious as men. Maybe even moreso. Alas.
And there's another reason I could never be a reporter journalist: I'm too biased. I'd say I was partial to the truth – but I'd die laughing: the truth? You mean there is only one truth? That's hilarious! That's like saying there is only one religion. But, of course, GBS actually did find that hilarious, in the preface to vol 1 of Plays Pleasant and Unpleasant he writes: there is only one religion though there are a hundred versions of it.