Exit stage left

March 9, 2004

In other words, the New Boss has decided it's time for me to go.

Tomorrow is the sixth anniversary of this column's inception. On March 10, 1998, I wrote my first column for the Trib. Headlined "Keep Your Labels to Yourself, Thank You," I introduced myself by talking about how I felt political labels (conservative, moderate, Kenny Guinn, etc.) didn't apply to me or many others I knew. As I re-read that column six years later, it still rings true.

I never had a plan to write a humor column like this for so long. It just kind of happened. The genesis of this column, as a matter of fact, lies in the Bully's on Prater Way and McCarran Boulevard, of all places.

At the time, I was the crime reporter for the Tribune. I'd been with the paper for about two months, and the education reporter, Kelly Stevens, was leaving. To send her off, Jerry Thull (the then-managing editor) and Dan Eckles (then, as now, the sports editor) decided we should have a little going-away party for Kelly.

Jerry and I were chatting, and I mentioned that I thought it would be pretty cool to take a stab at humor each week. Jerry noted that the paper would soon have an open slot, because he was cutting a syndicated columnist whose columns were too East Coast-focused.

And thus, this column was born.

That lasted all of three months.

It turns out that state Sen. Maurice Washington was penning a column for the Trib at the time, and former Sparks Mayor Jim Spoo had thrown his hat in the ring for Washington's seat. Spoo complained to Jerry and to Linda Brown, the longtime Trib publisher, that Washington's column gave him an advantage. Therefore, Spoo got my column space. In the meantime, I turned my humor eye towards movie reviews, given that Sparks had a brand spankin' new movie theater.

This taught me a valuable lesson, namely: Writing movie reviews is really, really hard.

In any case, when November came, Spoo was vanquished by Washington, and I got my column back. And I've been doing it ever since.

A lot has changed over the six years. I left the Tribune as an employee in 1999 to head to the Reno News & Review to become its news editor, but Linda and Dan, who was then serving as the Trib's managing editor, were kind enough to let me keep writing the column.

Then, life just kind of happened, as it tends to do. To the surprise of everyone, I became the editor of the Reno News & Review, before moving to Las Vegas and CityLife in late 2001. And then, in January 2003, I went to Tucson, Ariz., to become the editor of the Tucson Weekly.

Meanwhile, I churned out this column every week, reveling in the opportunity the Trib's managing editors and publishers -- Linda, Jerry, Dan, J.D. Wilson, and now Janine Kearney (with an assist from my homie, Willie Albright) -- had given me. And I'd like to think I did the Trib proud. This silly little column won four Nevada Press Association awards -- it won every year it was entered -- including two first-place nods, proving that the people who judge the NPA awards must be on something really funky.

And boy, did I have fun. Over the years, I met a wonderful fellow who named his Weblog "Square Rutabaga," and was stunned to find only one other instance of the phrase on the Internet -- in this very column. I wrote the column from an Internet cafe in Vienna. We were once threatened with a lawsuit from an auto repair shop because of an all-too-accurate column. And thanks to Tony Armstrong's flannel, Dotty's Casino's silence, Peggy O'Neill's dead-lawn-colored campaign signs and made-up letters from readers, we always had stuff to write about.

But now the New Boss says it's time to go. Fair enough.

The words I ended my column with on June 16, 1998 -- the final column before Jim Spoo took my place, when I didn't know if I'd ever get it back -- are appropriate today.

"Honestly, I am really disappointed. My purpose in doing the column was two-fold -- to have some fun, and to get everybody to think a little. I know I had fun, and I know I thought more than a little as a result of these weekly pieces. I can only hope you did the same."

With that, I bid you adieu. Happy laughing.

Jimmy Boegle is a fifth-generation Nevadan in exile in Arizona who thanks Janine, Willie, Dan, Debra and the rest of the Trib gang for their support over the years. He can be reached via e-mail at jiboegle@stanfordalumni.org.