My life as an intern

Working with our intern at MedCity News got me thinking about my own internships. I, too, was once a 21-year-old eager to start my career. I had three internships, and they provided me with some amazing experiences as well as crushing blows to my self-esteem.

I spent one summer working as an intern in the features department of my hometown daily newspaper in Erie, Pa. I drove the company cars, interviewed people and wrote stories. One day, when they were either understaffed or trying to see if the intern could handle some stress, they sent me to Chautauqua Institution to hear Al Gore speak. I was clearly the most inexperienced reporter there. I was surrounded by people who had been in the business since I was a toddler. It was intimidating. It was my first exposure to pushy TV reporters who would interfere with my reporting for years to come. I got my story and wondered if I was in the wrong business.

That summer, I endured snide comments from my boss. I can still see her peering over her glasses and asking me things like, “Did your mother write that?” when I received a nice thank you note from a grateful person I had interviewed. I remember another employee calling me over to sit by her while she edited one of my stories. She was patient and kind. Thanks to people like her, I made it through.

My internship at John Carroll University was the best learning experience I got there. It was better than any class I took. I was working in the school’s public relations office when the alumni magazine editor, John Ettorre, noticed me. He started giving me small things to write. Before long, he had sort of poached me from the dear woman who did public relations then. John challenged me, encouraged me and taught me. I learned time-saving, make-you-look-like-a-professional stuff like doing research on a person before contacting him for an interview.

John could sniff out interesting people and stories. Then he’d do his research and interviews, type rapid-fire style on the computer, and end up with a story that was a joy to read. I’m grateful to him for what he taught me and I’m glad that he’s still offering words of encouragement, long after the official internship ended.

The other internship I had was at Cleveland Magazine, which I’m fairly sure is what got me my first job. Looking back on it now, I can see that much of it was gruntwork. They gave the interns the stuff nobody else wanted to do. I didn’t care. It was thrilling for this small-town girl to leave campus, take the Rapid downtown and go up to her own office. In the magazine’s annual city guide, I got a byline for stories about neighborhoods, attractions and shopping. The work entailed a lot of research and compiling of lists, but I got to do writing too. I lived for the days when I got to do writing.

The best thing the years of experience have given me is a thick skin. Every budding writer has to go through the process of being able to take criticism from others who are just trying to make the writing better. Interns may interpret these comments, changes and suggestions as a personal attack on something they’ve created, but it isn’t personal. It’s business. Whenever a writer is paid to create something, that product is going to be scrutinized by the buyer. And the buyer has the right to ask the writer to improve it.

Just the other day, one of my clients made changes to something that had already been through several revisions by the intern and one or two by me. I wasn’t offended. The client’s changes made the writing better. Each person brings a different perspective to his writing, and sometimes an objective eye is all that’s needed to turn good writing into great writing.

Warm syrup? Yes, please.

Last weekend, I went out for brunch and ordered pancakes. It was nothing out of the ordinary --until the waitress brought me warm syrup. Yes, that's right, warm syrup. What a difference that makes! I know it's summer, and the thought of putting warm syrup on pancakes may be revolting to some. But the restaurant's air conditioning was cranked high enough to give me goosebumps on my arms. Trust me, I appreciated the warmth of the syrup.

It's a special treat to be given something that someone took the time to warm up. If you've ever been given a heated blanket or towel, you know what I'm talking about. Hot chocolate, soup, cider or tea fall into this comforting category as well, especially when someone else heats it for you.

As much as a warm drink soothes on a cold day, there's nothing like a cold drink on a hot day like today. Some of the most grateful expressions I've ever seen on people's faces have appeared right after I handed them cold drinks.

Men and the lure of that blue and yellow store

Why is it that men are so drawn to Best Buy stores? Maybe the manager pumps the scent of bacon into the air vents. Anytime hubby and I are within a couple miles of a Best Buy store, he wants to stop in...even if he was just there a few days earlier.

Guys are crazy about gadgets and electronics. They love to have the latest thing on the market. Women, on the other hand, just want something that works. We want a gadget that does what we want it to do. It's not so important to us that our phones can do 85 different things. We probably only use 10 or 15 of those functions anyway. But those 10 or 15 had better work.

Singletasking is not such a bad thing

The other day, I was talking to a client on the phone at work. He said he wanted to send me an email. That's nothing out of the ordinary, but what surprised me was what happened next. He admitted to me that he couldn't talk to me and send the email at the same time. I agreed to wait a minute on the phone while he sent the email. After that, we continued our conversation.

What struck me about this experience was the fact that he could recognize and admit that he couldn't do two things at once. In today's fast-paced environment of constant connectivity, it seems like we are all expected to be able to do at least two things at once. Whether we admit it or not, we don't always do two or more things at once AND do them all well. I can name more than one instance of being in a face-to-face conversation with someone and having to compete with that person's phone for attention. I can't say I enjoy that. I start to feel like I'm the intrusion instead of the phone. If I feel like I'm intruding, the conversation won't last long. Call me old-fashioned, but I like to have someone's full attention during a conversation. Doesn't everyone?

Tax, beer and cars: We're not in Pennsylvania anymore

Yesterday, I was surprised when I had to pay more than $16.99 for my $16.99 clothing item. Then I remembered that I was in Ohio. I've been back in Ohio for a few years and still can't seem to get used to paying sales tax on clothes. Neighboring Pennsylvania, where I lived for many years, does not tax clothing purchases. This is why busloads of people come to the commonwealth to shop.

I've grown accustomed to seeing alcohol in grocery stores, which is another thing you won't see in the keystone state. It's very convenient to buy wine and beer, which can be a good thing and a bad thing. It's nice to be able to purchase a bottle of wine for a party at the same place where you can pick up the chips and salsa. But that convenience makes it a little too easy to keep a supply of alcohol on hand.

The other difference that's a big change for anyone moving from one of these states to the other is the whole vehicle inspection concept. While both states check emissions, Pennsylvania car owners are required to take their cars to a mechanic every year to make sure that brakes, lights and other parts of the car are working. In Ohio, an inspection consists of the state Bureau of Motor Vehicles employee writing down the vehicle identification number that's stamped on your car. That's it. That's all they do.

I have no statistics to back this up, but I'd guess that Pennsylvania sells more clothes than Ohio, Ohio sells more alcohol and Pennsylvania cars are probably in better shape. I wonder what Indiana is like?

Misadventures of an Adult Skater

Yesterday, I walked into a skating rink feeling lucky to be able to go there. I left feeling lucky that I was able to walk out.

I haven't had a skating lesson in three years, and I've only been on the ice once during that time -- until this month. A desire to get more exercise and to have some fun at the same time prompted me to seek out a local rink. I found two (!) near work and toyed with the idea of skating again. With supportive bosses and a flexible schedule, the opportunity was there. I could do it.

After much planning, I went and skated for an hour on a weekday. I was happy to find that I could still do some of the things I had learned several years ago. My moves were sloppy, but I didn't care. I was having fun and was enjoying the feel of being on the ice again. So I went back yesterday, two weeks after the first try.

Within my first few minutes on the ice, I fell while trying to spin. I don't know what happened. I just didn't warm up enough and didn't feel like I had my legs beneath me.

It's easy to forget how hard the ice is when you haven't fallen in a long time. I stood up and felt pain in my left knee and right hand. I remembered someone telling me before that it was best to keep moving your knee after falling on it. I did a few laps around the rink, thinking about the irony of being on ice and wishing for an ice pack for my hand. I took off my gloves and compared my hands. I couldn't see any difference between them, so I figured I was probably ok. My knee felt better, and I got up the courage to try spinning again. And again. And again. I still couldn't get it right, but at least I stayed vertical.

I skated for the full hour that I had mentally committed to, but my hand was hurting the whole time. So was my pride. I had to keep telling myself that I was twice as old as most of the people on the ice with me. A few of them had fallen too, and they kept going.

When I got to the car, I pulled out the ice pack that I had in my lunch bag. I sat for a few minutes while I held the ice pack in my hand. I thought about how nobody at the rink knew me. If I had been seriously injured, they wouldn't have known who to call. I would be "Jane Doe" in a hospital somewhere. At least they'd have the first name right.

Today, my hand is feeling better but my knee still hurts. My pride is still healing too.

The Best Way to Communicate

Part of working with others is learning how they like to communicate best. Some always prefer to talk on the phone. For others, it's a mixture of phone and email, or even email and text messages.

When I need to communicate a message, I think about the person receiving it, the length of the message and the purpose. I also think about my time constraints. For efficiency, text messages and emails are great. But I haven't been able to get to know anyone very well through these forms of communication. I get a much better sense of someone's personality during a phone or in-person conversation.

In thinking about some conversations I've had recently, I realize I would've missed out on a lot if that communication had happened via email alone. That voice connection seems to encourage more conversation. When someone sends an email, it's usually about a single topic. What's great about live conversations is the different directions they can take. You can start out talking about one thing, and before you know it, you're on your fifth topic.

Fielding Questions About Skating

I've been mesmerized by the Olympics for the greater part of these last two weeks. I think I could hum "O Canada," I've heard it so many times.

Lately, people who know of my passion for figure skating have asked me questions about it. "Did Evan Lysacek deserve the gold medal?" someone asked. Yes, he did, because even though he didn't do a quad jump, he did everything well. His Russian adversary completed some sloppy jumps, quad or otherwise. Don't get me started about the quad. While doing a four-revolution jump is a marvelous thing, it shouldn't be done to the detriment of the rest of the program. Skating is not just about jumping. It never has been, and I hope it never will be.

"Why does it seem like skating is so different now?" My answer to that was simple: "the judging system." When skating officials created a new judging system to put an end to judging controversies, they were looking for a way to be fair. What we have now is a method of judging that assigns points to everything a skater does and how well it's done. The problem with this is that it causes skaters to craft their programs to get the maximum points possible. They pack the programs with elements that get rewarded with lots of points and leave out the elements that aren't worth much. This is what has really changed skating, and not for the better. Today's skaters don't perform the spread eagles or Ina Bauers of the past. Instead, these elements are used only as "difficult entries" into jumps and are held for just a couple of seconds.

If you look at old skating programs on youtube, as I just did, you'll see the difference. I watched Brian Boitano's gold medal performance from the 1988 Olympics. In addition to lots of jumps, he did a gorgeous spread eagle that covered a lot of ice. The tv commentator said, "This spread eagle (is) worth the equivalent of any triple jump." Amen, brother, but not anymore. Ditto for Paul Wylie's 1992 Olympic program, which included a fantastic Ina Bauer. These long, sweeping moves are what attracted me to skating.

To be fair, I'll point out a benefit of the current judging system. Since each element is assigned a point value and evaluated, the skaters really get to hone in on what they need to improve. For example, several skaters have improved their jumps after learning that they were downgraded because of taking off on the wrong edge or failing to complete the last rotation of a jump. It's valuable information to have.

Young Skating Talents Headed for Vancouver

In skating, as in many other areas of life, someone is always happy to take your place when you walk away from something. While I feel great admiration for the skaters I've watched for years, I'm excited about the younger talents who are making their mark on the skating world.

Sasha Cohen had been away from competitive skating for four years. She came back to the U.S. Figure Skating Championships to compete again and maybe win a trip to Vancouver. In the words of one of the TV commentators, "This is a very brave thing to do." While Cohen has the best spirals and the best split jumps of anyone competing today, she couldn't rely on those strengths to get the scores needed to win. The many jumps she landed on two feet really put her behind teenagers Rachael Flatt and Mirai Nagasu, who will represent us at the Olympics this month.

Other young skaters I'll be watching compete are in the ice dance category. Charlie Davis and Meryl White beat five-time U.S. champs Tanith Belbin and Ben Agosto for the first time ever, claiming the national title last month. Davis and White's long program was enthralling. I'll be rooting for them in Vancouver, even though Belbin and Agosto will be competing there too.

In the pairs category, Amanda Evora and Mark Ladwig, along with Caydee Denney and Jeremy Barrett, will represent our country at the Olympics. Denney and Barrett made a splash at last year's championships in Cleveland. I remember seeing their coach joyfully pounding his fists on the boards. At this year's championships, he was in tears. Like all female pairs skaters, who are routinely lifted over men's heads and thrown distances the length of a small couch, Denney is fearless. Somehow, she seems to have more grit than anybody.

In the men's category, Jeremy Abbott will be worth watching. Now a two-time U.S. champ, he transitions seamlessly from one element to the next. He has the technical skill and the artistry, with no apparent weaknesses.

I don't know how these first-time Olympians will fare against other countries' best, but it sure will be fun to see. Hey, the rest of you have your Super Bowl. This is mine.

Getting Something Down on Paper

A blank page or screen is so liberating and so terrifying. It's so full of lovely possibilities, yet equally open to a bunch of junk thrown down in haste. It doesn't know the difference. The screen will accept either one.

I had just begun reading the much-recommended "bird by bird" (Yes, it kills me to stay true to the title and not capitalize it.) by Anne Lamott when I saw my niece demonstrate the very same writerly struggles Lamott describes. My niece has a story project due -- some 300-plus words. It's daunting for a 7-year-old. Not wanting to let her leave it until the last minute, the adults decided to help her brainstorm.

We sat down with a notebook and started asking questions. Where would her story happen? What characters would be in it? What would they do? I hoped the series of questions would elicit some ideas from her creative, book-devouring little mind. We tried this a couple of times, with one of us taking notes while she spouted ideas between doing headstands and making an imaginary sled out of pillows.

Lamott's advice is, in G-rated language, to write a lousy first draft. Just get something down on the paper. This is what we were trying to do. I think it was successful. My niece might have too many ideas now.

What amused me the most was that on one attempt to pick up the brainstorming process again, my niece, at the very suggestion of it, raced over to the piano to practice. This is classic writerly avoidance. Writers everywhere struggle to block everything out, ignore the need-to-be-done chores or various sources of entertainment and simply write. It's a formidable task, regardless of age or writing experience.

How Am I Doing?

Every retailer seems to be begging consumers to take surveys lately. "Let us know how we are doing," says the receipt. Usually, the promise of a chance at winning something follows the survey request.

It occurred to me the other day that employees are a lot like these stores that want to know how they are doing. Every human being, regardless of company, title or salary level, wants to know that he or she is doing a good job. For some reason, it's easy to forget to tell people that they are doing well.

In this economy, when many companies aren't in a position to give out raises, I think it would be a nice morale boost for lots of employees if their bosses gave them a quick, "Good job."

Good Things About January

In an effort to be positive after the brutal week we've had here in northeast Ohio, I'm making a list of good things about January. Feel free to add to it, especially since I only came up with nine. The late-night comedy hosts have brainwashed us to believe that every list has to be a top 10.

1. Drinking hot chocolate and hot tea
2. Admiring the beauty of individual snowflakes on the windshield (but only at stop lights)
3. Seeing tracks in the snow and wondering which animal made them
4. Wearing cozy sweaters
5. Using the time indoors to catch up on things that got ignored during the holidays
6. Having a snowblower that starts after more than a year in storage
7. Feeling hopeful about the new year
8. Looking forward to the Winter Olympics next month
9. Eating hot soup
I just thought of number 10: after-Christmas clearance sales

An Alternate Route Detoured My Thoughts Too

When bad weather forced us to take an alternate way home today from a belated holiday gathering, we took the non-interstate route. While my steady-handed hubby drove, I looked out the window at my past. One of the counties we drove through was the place where I had worked for several years as a reporter. I could still remember the locations of the police stations, highway patrol buildings and other places I frequented on the job then.

We drove by my old apartment, where the kindly older man who managed the place told me one day that I should get new tires. I saw the farm market and bread store where I shopped. Of course, being young and single, I didn't have the best diet. I have to confess that on more than one occasion, I bought a McDonald's cheeseburger and ate it while driving to an evening meeting I had to cover.

The slow drive was a lot more interesting when I thought about all the places I used to go and what my life was like then. I guess that's the silver lining that came from the otherwise dreary detour.