The mind blocks out trauma

So if you've got time to write a blog about nothing, Bob, why aren't you going to be writing Polinaut for the next two months? No particular reason other than I'm taking a couple of months off from work, and for the most part, that includes politics. I kind of want to remember what it's like to write again. I went back to some of the stuff I wrote from the two conventions in 2004 and they weren't half bad. I want to get back to "not half bad" again.

These "look backs" are not always an accurate assessment. For the longest time, I regarded a lead I wrote while covering election night at the 1980 New Hampshire primary in Manchester as the "best thing I've ever written."

I was an editor at the old WHDH Radio in Boston, which back then was a terrific station - #1 in the market. I finished my afternoon shift and then drove north to Manchester, where the coverage crew had set up. My job was, basically, writer. They thought I could. I thought so too.

I got lost and the polls had closed and the big announcement of who won would be made at any moment. I finally found the place, ran in, found my crew, took off my coat, lit a cigar and wrote:

The forecast was for thunderstorms in Boston, but lightning struck in New Hampshire tonight and it's put a charge in the campaign of Gary Hart.

See what I mean? What garbage! I ripped it out of the typewriter, threw it at the anchor who read it. As he did, another reporter walked out of the studio, not knowing I was in the hallway, and said, "I guess Collins has finally made it here."

At the time, I took it as a compliment. Now, it's one of those things you think about while walking the dog and find yourself muttering "oh, God, why did I do that" in sheer embarrassment, causing the neighbors to poke each other and say, "there's goes that crazy muttering Collins guy again."