Stalking Jessica Lange On The Streets of Santa Fe
We could have become great friends.
My most interesting year ever had to be 1982. After six years in academia, I’d had enough. But leaving college for the real world was daunting, especially during a recession.
College was safe, and that’s why I stayed so long. I had a great job as the advertising director at the school’s daily student newspaper, but once you left college, you had to leave the paper.
Fortunately, I had a plan.
I spent most of my breaks in my then-hometown of Ventura, California, and I usually drove home from Nebraska. On my last winter break, I stopped in Santa Fe, New Mexico, for an interview at the city’s alternative newspaper, The Santa Fe Reporter. Advertising was my major and all I had worked for, and I was a fan of the liberal press.
I got the job, packed up my car with as much stuff as possible, including my cat, Sidney Sheldon, and began my career in an unlikely place. It was May, 1982.
I’ve always been a fan of dark movies. Films that leave you unsettled and often don’t have happy endings.