I'm so glad we had this time together....

I've sold programs at Dodger Stadium, made skis in Sparks, Nevada, washed dishes at college dormitories. And I can assure you that no place I've worked can provide the atmosphere of a newsroom.

Today was typical. From discussing in depth with copy editor Jim Healy the nuances in the theme song from Mannix and the classic early episodes of Mr. Ed (I still can't believe he's never seen the one where Mr. Ed outpitches Don Drysdale at Chavez Ravine), to waxing poetic with copy editor John Keller about the Lakers' chances of winning their 15th NBA title this year (why is it that I find the most interesting discussions with copy editors?), the people I deal with daily on the third floor of The San Diego Union-Tribune offer me what we used to call a psychic benefit: freedom from a boring workplace.

We're going through uncertain times; friends tell me I should change the name of my blog to EndangeredJournalist.com. Who knows if the newspaper I work for will be around by the time my youngest child gets to college? But I worry not. I find it refreshing to engage in routine conversation with co-workers, where I can learn everything from the best way to cook fried rice (thank you, Helen Gao) to the better neighborhoods for my son to live in near UC Davis (courtesy of Steve Schmidt). I've learned everything I need to know about Gaelic soccer (I never knew such a thing existed until last week), along with more than I need to know about creating my own Web site or finding lost dogs. And whenever I need to brush up on Chicago politics or get my fill of San Diego State basketball, John Cannon is there to help.

In what other job, what other profession, could I meet everyone from Orrin Hatch to John Lee Hooker, get thrown out of the Dodger clubhouse by none other than Tommy Lasorda, or learn how to make killer lasagna from the firefighters at Station 9 in Escondido? But best of all, in what other profession could I have met the wonderful people who have crossed my path in various newsrooms the past 28 years?

I may not be working here next week, but I'll never regret the line of work I chose.