“Roundtable 2017”

c. 2017 Rod Ice

All rights reserved

(3-17)

It was a busy morning at Geauga Gas & Grub, in Chardon. Across a counter by the window, members of the Geauga Writers’ Roundtable were gathered to discuss news of the day, cellphone woes and their ideas for future stories in publications of the county. Moderator Carrie Portnoy Hamglaze frantically ran around the room, greeting friends and gathering notes for the meeting. Her Irish tea spilled recklessly as she ran. Cheers echoed from the guests. Suddenly, the time to sit quietly had arrived.

“Order!” Carrie sang out like a siren. “Let me call the group to order!” She was overcome with emotion. “It has been too long since we met here. Welcome, everyone!”

I doubled her sentiment. “Too long, indeed!” We had been out of touch for about two years.

Mack Prindl of the Parkman Register looked like someone experiencing a diabetic fit. “Years gone, I think. At least fifteen years, I tell you! A few more winning seasons for the Pittsburgh Steelers gone by!”

Carrie snorted with a gtrin. “It has been two years, Mack.”

Martha Ann Reale of the Newbury Siren-Monitor smoothed her patterned dress. “Pringle, you always have to upset the tone of these gatherings. Why do they even invite you?”

“P-R-I-N-D-L!” he protested. “Get my name right, Miss Fake News!”

Martha Ann was rowdy. “Fake like your Super Bowl victories?”

Mack glared with defiance. “You MUST be a fan of the Cleveland Browns.”

Ezekiel Byler-Gregg of the Burton Daily Bugle thumped his fist on the counter. “Could we stay on subject for once? Instead of listening to this braying jackass?”

Prindl swung his fist. “Enough, old man!”

Carrie Hamglaze was visibly upset. But she quickly regained her composure. “Please, everyone! Let’s regain our focus! I would like to discuss how you are going to report about school funding and education. We are in a new era with President Trump and Betsy Devoss...”

Sandy Kimball of the Claridon Claxon brushed her close-cropped locks with a wayward hand. “Don’t speak that man’s name here! Not my president! Not my president!”

Mack Prindl howled with amusement. “Yours whether you like it or not, snowflake!”

“Nooooooooooooooooo!” she shrieked. “Never Trump!”

I had begun to feel woozy. “Friends, could we please stay local here? Let’s talk about Geauga County issues. How are we going to preserve the good lifestyle of our citizens with the challenges facing us all in the near future? How do we avoid slipping into the congestion and crime of other suburban areas around Cleveland?”

Carrie agreed. “Rod is right on target. What will you write in your newspapers about the opiate epidemic sweeping Ohio? What about the anniversary of the shootings at Chardon High School? On a more positive note, what about the new Dollar General store, in Thompson?”

Ezekiel stroked his gray beard. “Good subjects, all. But my readers are more interested in hearing about the maple syrup season. Our weird winter seems certain to affect production this year.”

Sandy adjusted her thick glasses. “Less production means less money for the county. What will Mr. Combover Cheeto do about that?”

Mack grunted like a bull. “He will keep on winning in Washington! He doesn’t have time to worry about our roller coaster weather here in the Buckeye State!”

Ezekiel laughed out loud. “Eeee-ahhh! Eeee-ahhh! There goes the jackass again!”

Carrie choked on her Irish tea. “Let’s try something different. Our esteemed colleague Rod Ice has a new project to discuss today. Something that will bring together all the different factions in our county. Let him speak!”

I was a bit embarrassed. “Well, as a matter of fact...”

Martha Ann bubbled with curiosity. “New idea? Let’s hear it, brother!”

My face reddened. “A simple thought, actually. I have put together an online newspaper called ‘The Geauga Independent.’ It is based on an idea Carrie and I once had about reviving the late, lamented Weekly Mail on Grant Street. We wanted to publish a paper that served all readers equally. My take on that plan was to create a ‘portal’ for free speech in the county. A sort of ‘Drudge Report’ or ‘Huffington Post’ for Geauga. I am the editor. But notable citizens from our district will supply material, in the form of opinion columns and news stories. In particular, of the kind rarely seen in mainstream journals.”

A hush fell over the window counter.

“Sort of like your local newspaper if it were published by… YOU,” I explained.

Sandy shuddered. “I am not sure how to feel about that...”

“Write your own column for the ‘Independent’ and be part of the solution,” I said, encouragingly. “The template is one I learned while working in Community Access Television, in New York, many years ago. Censorship was rejected. If someone did not like a viewpoint they saw being expressed, we asked them to participate and make a statement of their own!”

Carrie was flushed with excitement. “That sounds like America to me! And Geauga!”

Mack bowed his head. “I could even write about the Steelers?”

“If it is informative to our local readers, then yes,” I answered. “Even you could participate.”

Sandy tapped her nails on the counter. “So I could write about people here in the county expressing their distaste for Herr Cheeto and his administration?”

“If it had a unique slant that was useful to people living in the county,” I said. “A perfect companion to Mack Prindl chanting ‘Make Geauga Great Again.’ Free speech literally means free speech! It is there for everyone or, for no one.”

Carrie rubbed her eyes. “I like how you think, Mr. Ice!”

Outside, a thunderstorm was brewing. Winds battered the parking lot signage. Lights flickered. Rain splattered the tall windows. Then, the power failed. Suddenly, it was dark behind them, in the store interior. Battery alarms chirped for attention. A safety light flickered on from above the front door. The wi-fi network disappeared.

Ezekiel scratched his beard. “Looks like we’re back to the Amish life!”

Mack groaned loudly. “My phone is at eleven percent! I need a charge, not a civics lesson! Does anyone have a backup battery?”

Martha Ann cackled with satisfaction. “Looks like you won’t be filing your report after all, Pringle! Try writing it out in longhand and putting it in the post office mailbox!”

Voices raised with emotion. A scuffle nearly broke out between Ezekiel and Mack. Carrie sipped the last of her tea before it had gone completely cold. And I managed to sneak out to the parking lot for a quick breath of fresh air. The Geauga Writers’ Roundtable had returned.

I was glad to be back.

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