The good word

It's funny how such a little thing can be the biggest thorn in my side.

I'm talking about the "Word on the Street" column that shows up on the Pilot's opinion pages every week. We ask people questions and they give impromptu answers.

I dislike getting "Word on the Street." No question about it.

I dislike "Word" more than going to the dentist. I dislike "Word" more than eating peas. I dislike "Word" more than anything else I can think of that I dislike.

But it's one of the most-read sections of the newspaper. Editors and publishers like it, so there's no getting out of it.

When I worked for the University of Montana's student newspaper, the Kaimin, I had to get "Around the Oval." It's the same thing, basically, except you have to walk around the oval looking for college kids with opinions. Not so hard to find.

Easier to find than the Whitefish Pilot's version, but I still highly disliked doing it. But it did have a bonus, it was an easy way to meet people, especially cute boys.

I also worked for the Missoula Independent for a brief month and there, too, I had to do "Street Talk." This is where the dislike turned into pure hatred.

I know hate is a strong word, but it's the appropriate one in this case. I remember walking across the Higgins Street bridge, with my camera around my neck, dreading my assignment ahead.

"Ummm… excuse me sir, umm excuse me ma'am, would you mind answering the "Street Talk" question for the Independent?" I would shyly ask each passerby.

No, no, no, "Heck NO!" and more no's!

Rejection, after rejection, after rejection.

Sometimes I would get a "yes, but can I hear the question first?" and then a, "umm… no thanks."

The Independent was a bit more tricky, too, because it was almost always a political question and those are always the hardest questions to find answers to. Plus, then you had to ask a follow-up question.

For the last two and a half years I've been working at the Pilot, I have been doing "Word on the Street." I've been through my highs and lows, but believe I'm at my absolute low.

The other night had a complete breakdown over that particular assignment

I had, like always, put it off until the last minute, and that deadline day had been particularly busy. By seven o'clock that evening I was just finishing up work, but still hadn't had time to get "Word." I was supposed to go to a potluck with some friends that night in Columbia Falls.

I thought, well, I can get it there, right? Wrong. I finally mustered up the nerve to ask the whole party and only two were willing.

It was torturous. I started thinking how this assignment was becoming bad for my health. Everytime a person says no, I feel a stab to my ego, heart and soul. Deep down I know they're not rejecting me, but it's hard to get that through my skull.

Here's yet another difficulty. After I've cleared the question with the person and have written down their answer, there's this look of death on their faces when I pull out my camera.

"What! You're going to take my picture? Then no, don't take it, I don't want my picture taken. You can use the answer, just don't take the photo."

And then I respond by saying, "Oh sorry, we can't use the answer without the picture".

And so there goes another "word" down the toilet.

So the next time you see me out with my camera, wandering around looking for "volunteers," give a girl a break and give her your word.

It's not that bad.

You will live.

Opinions are good to give.

"Word" is good.

Lindsey Nelson is the photographer for the Whitefish Pilot.