Slight Detour: Out and About and Newman

Several years ago, in my first months of working as a correspondent for the Spokesman-Review newspaper, I was given a story assignment about Hope artist Russell Rosander. BTW: Russell now lives in Mexico.

I can't remember the exact focus of the story since it was in the late 1980s, but I did get to know, respect and appreciate Russell and his talents during the interview process.

Sadly, my story about Russell never appeared in the Spokesman-Review. After sending in a couple of drafts, my editor in the Coeur d'Alene office rejected the story.

The first draft, I was told, was about 2.5 times too long. Shorten it to 8 inches, he said. So, I did that, painfully so, and resubmitted it.

When I hadn't heard back from the editor for several days, I called to see what was happening with the story.

That's when he told me about the rejection, continuing on by listing several blunt and not so nice comments about the way I had written the piece.

As he talked, I listened on the phone, soothing my bruised feelings by emphatically writing several 4-letter profanities on a sheet of paper.

This editor was not being kind to me, and it bugged the heck out of me that I had wasted Russell's time, all for nothing.

That's how it seemed then, and the editor intimidation about my work continued. Along with it, however, I learned.

I learned more about how to make words count and how to craft a story than ever before in my life. Lots of other journalistic basics improved also as time went on and eventually Dave would dish out a compliment. Can't tell you how much those meant, coming from him.

I never saw much of Russell after that, but we have kept in touch over the years. After all, we are the same age.

Years later, I called that editor and thanked him for being a stern taskmaster and awakening me to many ways that I could improve my writing.

"Newman" was the editor that I needed during that period of my writing career. I will be forever grateful to him, even if he did make my life miserable at the time.

To be constantly told throughout life that we've done a good job---when maybe we haven't---seems like a kind and lazy way to get past mediocrity.

On the contrary, a little well-placed mentoring and honesty at times can help us move closer to the high bars in life.

Later, as a high school newspaper adviser, I took a few pages from my Spokesman editor's playbook by reserving effusive compliments for appropriate moments.

I was thrilled to learn in some written evaluations that my students knew that when I said "good job," I meant it and that they truly had done a good job.

Thank you, Dave, and thanks, Russell, for posting the timely advice below on Facebook.

🌅🌅🌅🌅

Do it today!

It's free, and it's healing, no matter how adverse the state of the world is at the moment.

When we enjoy a sunset, it doesn’t happen by accident. We notice the sun going down, the sky shifting through colors, and something inside us says, “I’m going to stop for this. I’m going to take it in.”

We make that choice, we dedicate the time and space, and suddenly the moment is alive. We say wow, and we mean it.

That isn’t passive. It’s an act of awareness. We are awake, present, and actively enjoying the experience. Without that choice, the sunset still happens—but it passes as though no one was there to see it.

This is a form of love. Love is not only a feeling; it’s what happens when we give our attention, when we permit connection, when we bring joy into the act of noticing. It takes intention, a willingness, and a choosing.

And it doesn’t stop with sunsets. We can do this with anything, with anyone, with every moment we touch. By choosing to dedicate presence, by giving ourselves to the here and now, we practice loving life.

And love, when lived this way, has the power to transform anything.