Killing time in the Albuquerque Airport

Good news in God's Country:

I'm actually employed.

I just wrapped up my third week at the Fort Wayne Journal Gazette. I'm back, five days a week, working mostly for the Living section, but also helping out the Business and Metro desks.

It's a temporary gig, but I'm not complaining. I'm thrilled to be back.

So far, most of my stories have been pretty playful: I’ve interviewed Fort Wayne fashionistas about what Michelle Obama should wear to the inaugural ball, talked to bakers about their Obama cookies, and spent an afternoon with the crazies who strip down to their underwear every New Years Day and run into the frigid waters of the St. Joseph river.

I’m getting a little worried, though, that I may be becoming the de facto “tough times” reporter, which may not be the best beat for my mental health. My first lengthy feature story was on survivors of the Great Depression; the next was on how the unemployed are flocking to online networking sites like LinkedIn to enhance their job search. I enjoyed doing the interviews, but given the chance, I may have passed the assignments on to a full-time staff member. I’m already worried about my economic future; listening to 80-somethings talk about eating dandelions and squirrels in the 1930s doesn’t help.

But three weeks of consistent work is apparently too much for Devon Haynie.

I'm actually in New Mexico now. I just spent the weekend in a very remote northeastern part of the state, where I interviewed for a reporting position at a community newspaper in a town called Farmington. I shouldn't give away too much about the gig, but allow me to foreshadow: it may or may not involve covering the Navajo Nation, acquainting myself with the oil and gas industry, and living in a trailer.

It’s been a while since I’ve been to New Mexico, and I forgot what a stunning state it is. On the three-hour drive from Albuquerque to Farmington, I passed towering sandstone mesas, red rolling hills, white rock formations and mountain ranges covered with snow and pines. The landscape seemed to change every 20 minutes. I haven’t been so overwhelmed by my surroundings since driving through South Africa several months ago.

I got so sucked in by the scenery on the drive back, in fact, that I thought I should take my time, enjoy the ride, and stop every now and then to take a picture. While that seemed like a good idea at the time, it seemed like a very bad decision a short while later when I approached the American Airlines counter at the Albuquerque Airport and realized that I had just missed my flight.

The original game plan was to get into Fort Wayne at 9:30 pm. I’ll now be getting in at 3 a.m. My friend Brian, who has to work tomorrow, is driving two hours to pick me up in Indianapolis. I hate that I’m the kind of person who actually asks for those kinds of favors, but I’m traveling tomorrow, too. And if I don’t get home tonight I’m in trouble.

I’m off to DC again tomorrow. I don't know how I did it, but I somehow talked my way into covering the inauguration. I'm taking an over-night 14-hour bus ride with The Fort Wayne Urban League—a local chapter of the national group of African Americans dedicated to black economic and educational empowerment. I couldn't have found a more perfect group to tag along with. I'll hang out with them during the day, file, and then see my friends at night.

I hitch a ride back Wednesday with one of the Urban League members. It’s going to be quite the trip. Cross your fingers that the networks aren’t down, and I can actually send in my copy….