While walking to a nearby Pho restaurant with Hilary I saw a sign on a tree. Hilary told me the story behind the sign about the poor, old, lady that lived in the house behind the tree had her Christmas lights stolen. Some jogger bought her new lights and this resulted in the thank you sign.
I have a friend Michelle who would be asking for more details as she reads this. It really aggravates her when answers to "Who took the lights in the first place?", "How did the jogger find out the lights were stolen?", "Why did the jogger replace them?", "Were the replacement lights on sale?", all these questions I have no answer to. It makes me a bad reporter or a bad gossip. I laugh because I know Michelle is probably pulling her hair out right now reading this.
Sometimes a story just doesn't have the answers, as in this case. An old lady got her lights ripped off, a jogger got her replacement ones. It's a happy ending. "Michelle, I don't even know if the lady was old. I just threw that in so you'd feel more sorry for her."
I couldn't sell the story as well if I couldn't pull the ole Christmas time heart strings. "The lady was a crack addict that abused the neighborhood cats..." wouldn't get much sympathy and you, the reader, would think the jogger was an idiot (although a kind idiot).
So 'old' lady it is. Perhaps I'll make it my personal goal to ask more questions later.
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