“Roundtable Redux”

It was a brisk morning at the McDonald’s on Water Street, in Chardon.

The Geauga Roundtable, a regular gathering of newspaper folk from the area, had passed into the realm of local history. But suddenly, after a late phone call from an old friend, the idea returned. Our venue was the original location – the ‘Golden Arches’ in our county capitol. Ezekiel Byler-Gregg, editor of the Burton Daily Bugle, had appeared out of the ether as I was working at my desk in the home office. Our conversation evoked memories of this bygone gathering. Soon, other friends involved in the wordsmithing routine also made contact. This return to friendly interaction over breakfast came naturally.

So it was that we met on a quiet day in December.

As in yonder days, Carrie Hamglaze, ‘Grande Dame’ of local journalists, served as chairperson of our meeting. She wore Irish green and Hilltopper red, as was her custom. Around the table sat Ezekiel and myself, along with Mack Prindl of the Parkman Register, Martha Ann Reale of the Newbury Siren-Monitor, and Sandy Kimball of the Claridon Claxon.

“Friends,” Carrie sang out with purpose, “I’d like to welcome you all back to our roundtable discussion!”

Martha Ann smiled at the group, wide-eyed through her cat glasses. “This is great, Carrie! Thanks for inviting us!”

“Yinz know it!” Mack sputtered. “I’ve been wanting to talk about Stillers football!”

“Please shut up!” Sandy groaned, smoothing her denim blouse. “Now I remember why we stopped having these meetings. Football, schmootball. You are such a boor!”

Ezekiel exploded with a belly laugh. “He can’t help it!”

“Six Super Bowls!” Mack roared. “Seven after this season!”

Carrie was perturbed. “Please, please! Let’s get back to business, shall we?”

“Didn’t we came here to talk about our newspapers?” I observed, pondering the circle of writers.

Carrie nodded with agreement. “Rodney is correct. We are gathered today for a bit of brainstorming about our publications. Who would like to begin?”

Mack frowned. “God help us, lets talk about anything but the Cleveland Browns!”

Martha Ann threw her pen. “Shut up, Pringle! Do you hear me?”

“That’s P-R-I-N-D-L!” he hissed like an angry snake.

Ezekiel slapped the table with one of his calloused hands. “I’m going front page with a story about local charities that help brighten the holidays for underprivileged people in Burton.”

Sandy nodded with satisfaction, while looking over her notes. “A worthy subject! I have an article about local churches in the township that host holiday dinners for the needy.”

My turn came before I was ready. “Well… I guessed on running a piece about Christmas in the time of the original Geauga Independent, so many years ago.”

“The Independent?” Martha Ann said quizzically.

“That’s right,” I answered.

“Never heard of that newspaper!” Mack fumed. “They don’t sell it in Parkman, that’s all I know.”

“It’s online,” I explained. “A retirement project. I left the Geauga County Maple Leaf in 2014. After my business career ended last year, I decided to create a ‘free speech portal’ which would serve as a virtual newspaper for the 21^st Century.”

“Very ambitious!” Carrie cheered.

“The original ‘Independent’ was published in Burton,” I reflected. “Apparently from 1883-1884. Then the ‘Geauga Independent’ took over in Middlefield, 1884-1885. The publisher was James A. Davidson. I found a listing on the Library of Congress website. Not sure if that indicated the full run of newspaper issues or merely what the library has on hand.”

Mack snorted with indifference. “A real paper is printed on… paper!”

“Well, yes,” I agreed. “Still, the industry is changing. I reckon the generation coming of age today will feel no particular affinity for printed matter as we have done. Everybody is on their cell phones today, more than at a desk, reading. Even old codgers like us!”

Sandy giggled. “It’s true!”

“The Maple Leaf was far ahead of the curve in that respect,” I said. “They’ve offered a state-of-the-art website for some time now, with a great presence on social media as well. That inspired me to modify my old dream of reviving the ‘Weekly Mail’ into a new sort of local publication.”

Carrie raised her Irish Tea in a toast. “Well done, Rodney!”

Mack shook his head. “So, is anybody covering the rally for President Trump next week?”

Sandy fretted, shaking her gray locks angrily. “Please! Don’t mention that name!”

Ezekiel coughed. “Local stories, Mack. Local.”

“That is local!” he shouted. It’s a local rally!”

Martha Ann bowed her head. “Mack, you are stirring the pot.”

Sandy raised her fist. “Obama! Obama!”

Carrie intervened like a schoolteacher. “Please friends, let’s keep our focus. We are together to talk about Geauga and compelling stories of our citizens.”

Mack turned red. “Okay, then is anybody covering the rally next week for the Stillers? Looks like another run for the Super Bowl, kiddies!”

Ezekiel grunted like a bull. “Martha Ann nailed it. You are an ass!”

I slumped in my chair. “Yes, this is just how it used to be, every month. I would sit here peering into my coffee while everyone argued. Thanks for bringing it all back home!”

“Rodney!” Carrie shrieked. “Let’s stay positive, okay?”

Mack took a deep breath. “I’m positive that this nonsense is making me sick at my stomach! Super Bowl Seven coming up, people! Here we go Stillers, here we go!”

“Mack, please!” Martha Ann pleaded.

“0-16!” he yelped. “Your Browns are a stain in the toilet bowl!”

Ezekiel stood up, suddenly. “I’m going for a coffee refill. Anyone want to join me?”

The table cleared without another word. Mack Prindl ended up sitting by himself. Carrie, Ezekiel, Martha Ann, Sandy and I stood in line at the front counter.

“Same as it ever was,” Sandy laughed. “I had forgotten how these meetings could raise my blood pressure.”

“Right,” I said. “But you know… I sort of missed them… strangely enough.”

Ezekiel nodded. “This is how we discuss ideas and get ready to write our final manuscripts.”

“Like a football scrimmage,” I added. “Or a regular workout.”

Carrie was pleased. “That’s it friends. A lively debate among peers. Welcome back to the roundtable!”

Comments or questions about ‘Words on the Loose’ may be sent to: icewritesforyou@gmail.com

Write us at: P.O. Box 365 Chardon, OH 44024

Published regularly in the Geauga Independent