Today’s post was sparked by a Facebook memory that reminded me both how damned old I am and how lucky I am.
My dad took the above picture 16 years ago today, just after I purchased my first mid-life crisis vehicle: A 1968 Ford Mustang. Dad knew it was the right thing to do as we were taking a test drive. (I can’t repeat exactly what he said here, as the editors at Sage might have their heads implode, but trust me, it was accurate recognition of pure joy.)
The old part should be obvious, but I want to quantify the lucky part.
I’m lucky that I’ve got a wife who told me, “Go get it. We’ll figure out the rest later.” I’m lucky my dad, who always “had a guy,” could take it to a mechanic to get an honest review and then help me go get it. I’m lucky I have a mom who helped me understand that everyone needs some joy in their lives, or else life isn’t really worth a whole lot. I’m lucky I have a job where a car like this wasn’t going to negatively impact the family or what we need to do to survive.
Beyond that, I wanted to say I’m lucky to have the opportunity to converse with you all on a weekly basis. Yesterday’s post had a number of people I’ve never met reaching out to tell me, “Thank you! I’ve been complaining about (FILL IN THE TOPIC) for a while and maybe the kids will now listen!” I’m lucky that I’ve got the folks at Sage, especially Staci Wittek, who is constantly finding ways to tell people that what I write is good for their students.
Not everything is roses and sunbeams in life, but I will say that when I would get behind the wheel of that car, a lot of the anxiety or distress that comes from all the world’s problems just kind of melt away a little bit.
For that and everything else good around me, I am grateful.
The Four-Word Interview
(The subject of a four-word interview.)
I stopped off to get gas this morning when a man in his 70s approached me.
“What year?” he asked, pointing to the Mustang.
“’68.” I told him.
He nodded. “Nice.” He then got in his truck and drove away.
In the simplest of terms, this was a perfect interview and the whole thing took four words.
In all the reporting and writing classes I have taught, the biggest problem students tell me they have is interviewing. They don’t know what to ask or how to ask it. They feel awkward talking to other people or they get the sense that they’re being pests. They would rather just email people and hope for answers instead of approaching people in public and talking to them. This is why interviewing features prominently in both the Dynamics of Media Writing and the Dynamics of News Reporting & Writing.
Interviewing is a skill and like any skill, you need to practice it to become better at it. That said, it is important to understand that every day, you conduct dozens of interviews, so you are probably better at it than you think you are. You ask your roommates how their day went, you ask the waitress what the special of the day is and you ask your professor, “Will this be on the test?” If you don’t think of these interactions as interviews, it’s because you are overthinking the concept of interviewing.
The purpose of an interview is to ask someone who knows something that you need to know for the information you seek. When you get that information, you do something with it. The guy at the gas station wanted to know one thing: What year Mustang was I driving? He figured the best source was me, the owner of the car. He asked a question that would elicit the answer he sought. He got his information and he moved on.
Interviewing as a journalist can seem much more complicated than that, mainly because you have to do a lot of preparation, you need to troll for quotes and you need to figure out how the answers fit in the broader context of your story. That’s all true, but if you start with the basic premise of “What do I need to know?” your interviews can feel more natural and less forced.
