Care to join me in a plate of crow, with a nice Canadian merlot?
Ken Bolton was What’s Up Yukon’s Editor from 2009 to 2011 (with a few appearances since) is currently the copy editor and a prolific freelance contributor who lives somewhere southeast of Whitehorse.
When a stack of What’s Up Yukon magazines mysteriously appeared at the Yukon Government cafeteria one February day in 2005, I immediately picked one up and started to browse.
“Interesting. Colourful. Local arts and entertainment. Definitely different. And free,” I mused. “Too bad it won’t last more than six months.”
Having owned (and lost) two weekly publications of my own in Eastern Canada, I knew about these things. Surely, there wasn’t enough revenue base for a niche publication like this in a small place like Whitehorse.
Twenty years later, this is me, with a delicious plate of crow meat in front of me.
In my defence, I didn’t know Tammy Beese back then, and I just knew Darrell Hookey as an amiable appliance salesman who lived on our block and loved to chat.
I found out later that he had actually studied journalism (what a notion). I also learned that Tammy had a clear vision, which she pursued with the tenacity of a Rottweiler with lockjaw.
In 2009, after I had backed away from the public trough, I persuaded Darrell to run a column called Dear Mister Ed, written by my alter ego, Rodney Dougherty, from Dingwell’s Pond, P.E.I. A year later, I was living in Armstrong, B.C., when Tammy and Mark Beese phoned to offer me the editor’s position.
What an opportunity! Filling the giant sandals of Darrell Hookey (with or without socks, I can’t remember which). Not all by myself, admittedly. The Beeses wanted to try having co-editors; one male, one female; one in Whitehorse, one in Dawson City. It’s an experiment that hasn’t been replicated since.
My first weeks on the job nearly made my head implode. I had basic computer skills, but no idea about WUY’s elaborate protocols, how and where things got filed and moved throughout a digital landscape in which I might never actually meet most of my colleagues.
On top of that, the advertising department was building up for a big special to mark WUY’s first 200 issues, although it wouldn’t actually emerge until Issue 206. It was a whopping 40 pages. My co-editor hadn’t started yet, so I was alone and flailing.
In those days, the magazine had three distinct sections, with separate “covers” to reflect the section themes. Certain things, such as food and beverage stories, had to be in certain locations. Thank goodness our designer, Omar Reyna, actually knew what he was doing.
While I scrambled to find enough copy to feed the beast, Omar quietly worked countless hours putting together three appropriately-themed “covers” consisting of collages from the front pages of the mag’s first 190 issues. Surprisingly, we hit our press deadline and lived to tell the tale.
When I launched a new column called A Little Off the Top, I was proud of the four-way word play. It appeared on Page 2, at the top of that week’s editorial menu; it emanated from the Big Chair, the top of the editorial food chain; it reflected what was top of mind for me that week; and the accompanying photo made it clear that my barber (or Time) was regularly taking a little off the top.
I have many precious memories of the two years I spent wearing Darrell’s footwear, in addition to several stints filling in during transitions between editors.
Most of those memories revolve around a common commitment from many, many unique contributors, such as Old Crow poet-philosopher Allan Benjamin and an energetic young photographer named Rick Massie, who provided scores of first-class cover photos, often on very short notice, not to mention excellent and dedicated design, advertising and marketing teams.
WUY has always had an unspoken sense of family that included our thousands of faithful readers, our advertisers and distributors. But the core of the family was always the Beeses.
Countless happy memories are still imprinted from time spent with Tammy and Mark, not just on the job, but especially around the Beese fire pit on Friday evenings, when Tammy and I would butt heads over some obscure disagreement, while Mark smiled benignly and poured more wine.
And how could I forget that time three of us tried (almost successfully) to lose Mark after dark during an ill-fated hunting trip on the Mayo River?
For some time after I officially “left” What’s Up Yukon to chase a different dream back East, I contributed a column of meandering nonsense called Wasting Away in Geezerville, that effort has since been laid to rest, but very (very) soon, I’ll be launching its successor, Beyond Geezerville.
My hope is to offer something light, but nutritious … something that doesn’t shy away from some of the darker realities of growing old, but does it with a touch of humour. I hope you’ll join me.
Meanwhile, I’ll sit here and enjoy a nice meal of fricasseed crow and a soothing glass of (Canadian) merlot, for having doubted the viability of this great publication 20 years ago.
Cheers!
