“Have You Heard?”

As is usually the case in situations like these, I learned things about my friend Leslie at her funeral I had no inkling of.

Of most interest to me was the fact that she wrote a regular newspaper column back in the day.

Her daughter Molly currently writes for the St Paul Pioneer Press, and I wrote for a little tabloid newspaper in my distant past also! So, I read the one column they posted with great interest.

Leslie’s column for the weekly Wisconsin Onalaska Record-Times was titled, “Have You Heard,” and reading it, I thought it was the most darling thing ever: weather, local events, home tips, and recipes, all woven together like a neighborly quilt.

I could tell Leslie was in her element. The tone was conversational, playful, and I get the sense that she knew everyone’s middle name and family hotdish secrets.

She even gave out her phone number asking for newsy tips! It was a different era, for sure.

In my current locale, the closest we had to Leslie’s column was the beloved slice-of-life “Bulletin Board” column in the St Paul Pioneer Press.

It invited readers to share everyday stories, quirky observations, nostalgic memories, and gentle humor from life in Minnesota and Wisconsin. Think cap guns, lost umbrellas, State Fair mishaps, and the occasional philosophical musing from Grandma Pat or Zoo Lou.

Alas, the column was discontinued a number of years ago.

Back when Alice and I lived in Sonoma County, California, the legendary Herb Caen wrote his column for the San Francisco Chronicle, and his daily missives from “Baghdad by the Bay” were a must-read.

For local news we read the Gaye LeBaron column in the Santa Rosa Press Democrat. She was a daily staple for over six decades; I still have some books she wrote on Santa Rosa history.

My favorite Gaye LeBaron columns featured the exploits of “Pepper,” Santa Rosa’s town oddball: a harmonica-playing, yodeling, traffic-directing force of nature.

I saw Pepper in action on numerous occasions. She’d call out to a passerby, “You left something behind!” When the person would look back in confusion, she’d shout out: “Your footsteps!”

Another favorite column was in the Petaluma Argus-Courier: “So They Tell Me,” written daily for almost 50 years by Bill Soberanes.

He wasn’t. But his column sure was quirky fun! It was a whirlwind of names, events, and oddball facts, delivered in rapid-fire style with ellipses separating each item—very much in the tradition of Herb Caen’s “three-dot journalism.”

He was a self-styled “Peopleologist” who was proud of his collection of over 45,000 photos of himself obsessively photobombing and glad-handing famous and infamous people from all walks of life.

He could be seen walking the streets of Petaluma at all hours, a familiar figure with his pipe clenched between his teeth, a camera slung over his shoulder, and a satchel full of newspapers and notes.

Bill Soberanes was famously self-referential—he lived at the center of his anecdotes, name-drops, and observations. Alice and I made a game out of circling every use of a first-person pronoun in his columns and tallying up the total.

And who could forget his “Bill Soberanes’ Health Kick?” That was his recurring ritual of self-reinvention—equal parts earnest and theatrical.

He’d announce he was back on the B.S. Health Kick (yes, he actually went there), vowing to shed pounds, regain his youth, and become a superman through pushups, rope-jumping, and shadow boxing.

Herb Caen and Bill Soberanes are no longer with us, but Gaye LeBaron lives on, albeit in retirement.

Life here in Ye Olde Folks Home just begs for a column like Leslie’s; I’d be just the guy for that and I’d love to do it, but I don’t think I’m up for it.

Knowing the personalities, politics, and situations I’ve seen here, I suspect that’d subject me to far more drama than I care for.