Punching the Clock: Life in the hot seat

Nobody died. That sits at the top of the three accomplishments I can be proud of looking back on my short stint as editor of The Evening Sun while Jeff Genung was on vacation.

The second: While it wasnít always pretty, a newspaper managed to get published and delivered every day. Not bad for a guy who up until about two years ago didnít know how to check his own e-mail account and, even now, can barely stay inside the lines when he takes a crack at his two-year-old nieceís Elmo coloring book.



The third: It took all I had, but I didnít eat a single miniature Reeseís Peanut Butter Cup out of the two-pound squirrel stash in my bossí desk drawer. There was a lot of looking. A lot. But no touching.

But before I go breaking my arm patting myself on the back, Iíd be lying if I didnít give most of the credit to my co-workers in the newsroom, darkroom and pressroom. They saved my hide on more than one occasion.


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