The Paper

It’s the story of my life.

Sorta. Kinda.

The ink-stained wretches on screen were working for a New York tabloid, covering murder and mayhem, while I was not.

But back in ’94, when this flick hit, I was the youngest Sports Editor in the history of the Whidbey News-Times, working without a college degree, and I felt a kinship with Michael Keaton and Co.

A fair amount of time has passed, and I made wide detours to work on mussel rafts and in video stores, but, somehow, I still remain tethered — sorta, kinda — to journalism.

And I still love this film.


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