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I keep a spare pair of boots in my car in case I have to go traipsing through a crime scene, and a pencil in case I’m outside and my pens freeze. I send text messages in AP style. I’ve talked to people who are making funeral plans for their children, elected officials, professional athletes and people who just had interesting stories to tell. I’ve been on a ride with bounty hunters (they prefer to be called fugitive recovery agents) and found myself atop a ladder in full turnout gear at the fire academy. I’ve won a couple awards, but I am enough of a realist to realize that there are people a lot more talented than I am who don’t have a job. I’ve got a front-row seat for the industry’s self-immolation. On my worst day, I still can’t imagine doing anything else for a living, and on my best day, I actually feel sorry for people who don’t do what I do.
I’m a journalist.