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I applied for my first internship by turning in some high school essays. No one else applied, so I got the job. I was on academic probation twice in college. I’ve peed in the trash can of a rickety, old press box so I wouldn’t miss deadline. I got stumped on a story, went out to the bars, got re-inspired and passed out on my keyboard. Dennis Miller saw what I was eating at an event and made fun of me. It was hot dogs and cheesecake — free for working reporters. Bad grammar? I’ll probably hold it against you. Some weekends I don’t read a thing. I know I could make a mint doing something else but would it make the same difference? My father worked at a newspaper. He was a blue collar guy who worked graveyard shifts. It made him proud when he showed off my first byline to his friends in the press room.
I am a newspaper reporter.