Column: The power of the pressI forget sometimes the power I have just because I have this job, and more specifically this space each week to share whatever thoughts happen to pop into my head. With just a few well-chosen words, I can unite readers around an idea, even if that idea is just, "Boy, that guy is an idiot!"
By: Nathan Hansen, Rosemount Town Pages
I forget sometimes the power I have just because I have this job, and more specifically this space each week to share whatever thoughts happen to pop into my head. With just a few well-chosen words, I can unite readers around an idea, even if that idea is just, "Boy, that guy is an idiot!"
When you're an influencer with a high-level platform like a small-town weekly newspaper, you can't always control the message people take away. All you can do is keep talking about important issues like comic books and luxurious deer stands and hope for the best.
I have been told over the years that high school students have used this column as a model for their own writing assignments, which I certainly do not recommend. Kids, please don't stake your academic future on this column. I don't want that weighing on my conscience.
From time to time, people will tell me they like a column I wrote, something that always surprises me when that person doesn't happen to be related to me. When that person is a relative, it only surprises me about half of the time.
I don't bring this up just to make myself feel better, although you have to take your opportunities where you can get them. I bring it up because last week I got maybe the best reminder yet that people are actually paying attention out there.
You might remember last week’s column was about the Olympics and the large chunks of time I have spent camped out on the couch watching them. It’s possible you don’t remember that, which would help explain why you’re back here reading another week’s column. But either way, that’s what it was.
Because I had also talked about the strange marriage of high-level athletics and corporate sponsor McDonald's, I ended by jokingly suggesting someone bring me a happy meal.
Well, shortly after the paper arrived in subscribers' mailboxes Thursday, somebody did. Actually, he delivered three of them to our office.
There are two things to take away from that. First, the tiny french fry servings in happy meals are absolutely adorable. Second, that Secret actually works. All I have to do is mention in this column that I want something, and someone will deliver it to my door.
I promise not to abuse this ability. As Spider-Man's uncle Ben once said, "Hey! That guy shot me!" But also, and maybe more to the point, he said, "With great power comes great responsibility."
Of course, it would be a lot easier to be responsible if I had a Porsche.