"I Had the Craziest Dream." It was the title of Helen Forrest's life story. The late Howard Moser of Morris had a copy of the book. You might recall that Howard and I worked together at the old Morris Sun Tribune newspaper. Fewer and fewer will remember, of course. That's the way of the world.
Howard was a big fan of the Golden Age of Hollywood. He told me about how he might sit through the same movie twice in one night. I have only done that once in my life, for the movie "All the President's Men" when I was in St. Cloud. The movie was the story of Watergate.
Will we soon see movies that reveal the truly dark side of having Donald Trump as a national leader for such a long time? First we have to make sure we survive it all. We're not there yet.
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| Helen Forrest |
Have people begun forgetting about the Hancock Record? All the work I did for that publication in a 15-year period, and now the publication is gone. In the dustbin. People have acquired other means of getting the benefits of that product. That's exactly how our economy works as it coincides with free enterprise. "Creative destruction" happens.
So how do I deal with all the memories, to reconcile them with the reality of our new media world? Everyone can join the media today. I was most certainly seeing the effects of change toward the end of my 27-year total tenure in the Stevens County commercial media. Was it all a dream? Seriously, the book title bounces back into my head from time to time. Ah yes, "I had the craziest dream."
Helen Forrest was a well-known singer in the big band era. "I Had the Craziest Dream" was a song introduced by the trumpet man Harry James and his orchestra. Forrest enhanced it all with her singing. World War II was raging as it became current. The song was introduced in the 1942 film "Springtime in the Rockies."
My involvement in newspapers seems rather a past life in my mind. And I spent those years in a different social climate. Wow, can I explain that? Covid slowed down our social contacts a lot. Even before that, yours truly had become more isolated by simply having been away from newspaper work. I left the Morris paper in June of 2006.
Sometimes I'll encounter someone downtown, briefly, good enough for a token greeting or a nod of the head. Recently this happened and I thought my old friend had a little glimmer in the eye as if he was happy to see me. This sensation returned for me the other day as I sat down with a local bank branch manager with whom I was acquainted from "the old days." Were my memories a mere dream?
It was ditto with an eye exam a few months back where I was dealing with a similar old acquaintance. Not really "friends," I grant, but people like me who circulated in a particular circle. The people were not averse to being in the public eye. They were community leaders, though not (necessarily) vain in their motives. Mostly they are salt of the earth people.
My main point here is that on those rare occasions when I renew my contact with them, I sense a renewed affection, as if we had shared a part of our lives when society was more open, more relaxed, and people assumed that "people contact" was a daily reality. We all needed each other. We got through our little dust-ups.
So how am I comparing that to today? The younger generation is more brass tacks and much more guarded about personal contact. They feel if they fulfill their narrowest obligations to get their job done, everything is satisfactory. Go home and guard your privacy I guess.
I used to show up at people's front doors to get identification of people in photos that I had just processed. I might be staring at "deadline" of the next morning. I felt I had rapport with these people, like they'd be happy to see me. We'd engage in some small talk, perhaps. All is right with the world. Even though our jobs could be like sausage-making sometimes, we sought enjoyment at the most fundamental level. "People contact" was part of what kept us going. And I think we took it for granted. The younger generation can seem sullen by comparison.
And have you checked the headlines recently? Wow, you can get shot just because you showed up at someone's doorstep. You can get shot if you accidentally drive into the wrong driveway. You can get shot if you step into the wrong car. Someone pointed out to me "so many cars look alike today." Valid point. But why do we suddenly have to fear being shot and maybe killed because of making our rounds in the way I've described?
Makes me wonder if the Jehovah's Witnesses still do their thing with showing up at strangers' residences. Wouldn't surprise me if they've aborted that. They once came to the Williams place.
We seem to be so skittish and scared in our contemporary America. People contact seems only done by necessity. There is no by-product of simply getting to know someone, sharing your life experience just a little with that person. Just a little.
By contrast, "What do you want from me?"
Well, nothing tangible, really.
So I'm remembering a past lifestyle where I represented the Stevens County "press" and had myriad personal contacts. It was never "all business." But it probably would be today. Tech has created efficiencies. That makes interpersonal contact much less necessary.
Remember how a bank lobby might be full of people - customers and employees? More efficient systems have surely been created. I told my bank manager friend that there are times nowadays when, if I call his bank, the person picking up the phone might be in Lake Elmo. Nothing should surprise us now.
I see my old contacts out and around sometimes - maybe in the parking lot of Willie's - and I swear there's a little glimmer of affection going both ways. We remember how things used to be. We all weren't so scared as to think of pulling a gun when someone shows up on our property. People today will actually invoke "stand your ground." I think back to when we all circulated in a manner that was more accepting.
"I Had the Craziest Dream." Yes, those times were quite real, just like my 27-year tenure in the local print media. No one can ever take that away from me.
- Brian Williams - morris mn minnesota - bwilly73@yahoo.com
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