I was writing this blog in my head yesterday afternoon, but the ending was different than I wanted or expected.At first it was a great small-town journalism day. I was driving around to different things yesterday when I noticed three different produce stands in town with pumpkins and gourdes among other veggies. Well, I thought, this is a story.
The first one was OK, I got some good information, but no dazzling quotes. The sellers were from a town about 40 miles north, but they're here selling every week.
The next one was pretty much the same: from almost an hour away and not much to say.
The third one was jackpot! Everything was locally grown and the seller had great, colorful quotes:
"Once Oct. 1 hits with the cooler weather it's time to decorate the porch and make chili," said the man selling pumpkins, gourdes, tomatoes and a variety of peppers.
"They're just so ugly they're pretty," he said about the gourdes.
It was great. Then he wouldn't give me his name. Just the name of his business run by him and his brother. I have the two brothers' first names, but no last names and I don't know which one he is. Turns out one of them may have been convicted of a couple crimes - but nothing in the past 5 years and no outstanding warrants. So why did he want his name left out?
It's raining today, so I probably won't have luck with going back, but I do plan to go back. I want to convince them to give me names. It may mean the story is lame, but no names and no free publicity. That's how it goes, folks.
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