My Untimely Demise

I had not intended to mention this, because it sounds so self serving.

I am, occasionally, opinionated. And, sometimes, when I have something to say, I will write to the editorial pages of one of our local newspapers. Over the years, they've printed almost everything I've ever sent them --  which says less about my writing ability, and more about the fact that, if you can write a coherent sentence, and keep the vulgarity to a minimum, you can probably get published in the opinion pages. 

Once a month, the editorial board votes on the best letter submitted that month, and then republishes the piece, with a picture and a little bio about the author. 

I received a phone call, last week, from the paper, informing me that a letter I had written, had been chosen as the letter of the month (I actually thought they were calling to get me to pay my bill). 

So, they interviewed me, took my picture, gave me a tour of the building, and ran the little piece, in last Sunday's paper. I've received a lot of very nice comments, from friends who caught the article -- thank you.

And then, I came to work yesterday...

Somehow, my boss' wife got wind of the story, tracked it down, cut out the article, glued it to a piece of card stock, with the words "Our wonderful employee," and hung it next to the time clock. For all the world to see.

And here's the problem: it's a long, skinny, article, with a (very unflattering) picture of me, at the top.

It looks just like...you guessed it...an obituary.

Many of the people I work with are not what you would call avid readers. Consequently, upon first glance, most of them thought I had died.

So, I'm writing to set the record straight.

To paraphrase Mark Twain:

 The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.