I didn't know what I was doing, didn't know what this was all about and, as I've said before, I believe in last year's column, I didn't know the first thing about reporting, only that I could write.
Some 23 years later all that has changed and here I am on my own but never forgetting stepping into that first newsroom in Franklin, Virginia, the manual typewriters, the drab walls, but the sense I was doing something I knew I could do.
Only newspaper people will probably appreciate this column, at least newspaper people who stepped in about the same time I did.
There are things you never forget, sights you never forget and even smells you never forget.
Jeff Foxworthy talks about you know you're a redneck when …
I'll up him and say you know you're a newspaper person when …
You get home from work and peel little strips of waxed type from the bottom of your shoes.
You get home from work and have to wash your hands to get the paste up wax off of them.
Your feet ache from standing over a paste up board and your mind aches from trying to solve the puzzle of making it all fit without using too many house ads.
You learn an X-Acto knife is really sharp and can stick really well in your finger and a tiled ceiling.
The smell of the fluid from the typesetting machine almost makes you drunk.
Upon entering a darkroom for the first time, you are almost knocked out from the overpowering chemical smell.
Your first attempt at rolling film in the dark onto a metal spool is about as unnerving as the time you naviagted the Sierra Nevadas in a blizzard.
You wonder if your hands are going to fall off after they have soaked in developing and fixing fluid.
You think the only true color for photos is black and white.
Tri-X film is your friend.
You feel a sense of accomplishment when you see the big papers scramble to do the story you broke first.
You still get a rush at seeing your name in print.
Picking up a paper right from the press is like picking fruit from the tree.
Picking up ink from the pressroom on the bottom of your shoes is a way of life.
You look at your paycheck, shake your head, and carry on.
You watch All the President's Men at least once a month for inspiration.
You marvel at the technology changes in the last 20 years, going from manual typewriters to computers and smart phones.
You love your digital camera because it can still shoot in black and white.
You think now about how Facebook and Twitter has saved you on several occasions and how you scoffed at it when you first heard of them.
Even with all the technology advancements, you still need notepads, in my case steno pads, and pens.
TV reporters still irritate you.
You think to yourself, even though I'm doing this in a digital format, I still have ink in my blood — Lance Martin
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