When we met at the Ale House

All I can say: true story.

When we met at the Ale House
by Daniella Ponticelli

I met you again for the first time
last night
same light brown hair
matching the light brown ale
held so comfortably in your big hands

You’re bespectacled, and tall
Giant might be a stretch;
but your warm smile brings you down
to my level
And across from the table
all is equal.

Kind of like when we met
In the park the first time
Across from each other on a picnic table
just talking; four hours

but tonight it’s only two,
and we’re at an Ale House
Much like our second date
At the brewery
Where I met your friends.
Much like tonight
when we meet again
for the first time.

You and your sarcastic shirt,
matching your silly manner
Not quite a ninja turtles hat
with a matching tee
but tonight you’re wearing my favourite colour
How did you remember?

I guess you didn’t know

And no surprise you’re not alone,
with your well-used
socially abused
iPhone (which used to act up)
with your tweets –

That’s how we met, isn’t it?

You grumble about the crap comic
say you can do better
I joke about you being a snob
especially about your beer.
You laugh and order another
craft brewed delicacy.
Then mention how you’re a writer
and a soul-searching travesty

Who found his way to the Ale House.

It’s you – completely and exquisitely you
And my heart stopped,
And had I not started anew,
there’d have been an
inquest.

I figured seven hours was enough
distance between us
You (time) travelling (handsome) devil.

At least your names aren’t close
That’s a plus, I suppose
And now we gather for an IPA
Just like old times

Even though you pretend there was never a time.

So I finally start again,
and we meet again
where we drink again
Even though we’ll never speak again.
And there’s laughter,
And bad music and fellow happy people
And we revel in each other’s company
And I think back to us
Even though we just met
that night, now last night
and I agree it’s time for you to go.

And so I remain in the Ale House
with the man I came to see again
And he settles the tab
as I playfully quip that his friend,
with his light brown hair
and awkward, cute, nerdy aura
and passionate love of beer
and fervent flair for writing
(and batman screensaver)

reminds me of somebody I used to know.

*

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Roadside musings

It’s coming up on my three-month anniversary here in Saskatoon. There are many stories I could share, but most I don’t want to waste too much breath on – although I’m sure my harrowing tales on intra-city moves will come out with a glass of wine or two (mark your calendars Winnipeg, I’ll be in town November!)

I love it here though, now living five minutes away from a river trail that is never under water – because it is built on very high ground – and meeting new people now that I have new room mates. Who are more friends than roomies.

Anyhow, I’ve been meaning to share a quirky piece of writing with you, because for those who know my brand of poetry, you know it always stems from a bizarre thought or what would happen if jumping point.

This one began with … “So what should I do to stay awake [on a 7 hour road trip to Winnipeg]?”  I had a few suggestions thrown my way, but this one was quirky and (definitely perfect) as poetry fodder. Bon Appetit!

Roadside Heist
by Daniella Ponticelli

The radio signals cuts in
and out.

The road ahead never winds around
or about.

The tummy rumbles, and grumbles and moans.
An almost depleted mobile is mute
without tones.

It’s just over half way,
where the road , ahem, stays straight and uptight.
The same feeling in your back, and the bum cheek that fell asleep

Yes, the one on the right.

Out of nowhere (if such a place exists)
emerges a sign post with directions, and text and very few
twists.

It’s a little daring, mind me – a little bold
to do as a sign says, without being told.

Follow along to a loose gravel lot
where a corner store beeps and meeps and wheezes
as a flower dies lonely in its pot.

This is the place, prime for the picking
Out on recce, as the clock keeps on ticking.

A back door, a front, with a little quaint awning
with a cashier, a vendor and a fat tabby yawning.

A Saskatchewan town if one ever did see,
but a Manitoba licence plate out for
a free spending spree.

No one suspects, it’s far out of character,
back up, butt awake and brave demeanor

Stroll in, look for jerky, milk and maybe some condoms
Act normal, be polite and then state the conundrum:

While I would love to purchase
these things here so fine,
I’d much prefer to take them as is,
as a thief would transact, you understand?
to be mine. 


Yes, I can afford it, but what good a heist would this be?
Shall I offer you some prose in exchange, or simply bid my leave?
I have no weapon, just my sharp wit.

Oh let’s call it a day and be done with it.

A blank stare, and a small wicked grin
The cashier bites the joke,
as one would poke another’s ribs.

Leave with the goods and just don’t pay
a textbook heist, the papers shall say.

 The radio signals cuts in
and out.

The road ahead never winds around
or about.

How to stay awake, stay alert, for more
to lull out of the boredom, and withhold a snore?

A heist is one way; another, caffeine
to break up the flat, and the yellow and
the unending, overbearing, just plain glaring

Saskatchewan green.

*

Green pastures: my take on the journey to an elusive J job.

On Thursday, I had the honour of speaking to this year’s fresh intake of Creative Communications students at Red River College. Not only was it a pleasure to be back in Winnipeg and back at the campus where my career first developed, it was also great to be in the company of other esteemed CreComm grads from 2012: Albertine Watson, Hayley Brigg and Sean Campbell.

While we all found jobs that were a) in our professional field and 2) fulfilling and terrific, I was the only representative who left the Winnipeg nest.  I am not, however, the only journalism major from the 2012 class to pack up and head to greener (pun intended) pastures. We saw classmates off to Fort McMurry, AB; Brandon, MB; Thompson, MB; Swan River, MB; Dryden, ONT; and of course – Saskatoon, SK.

I wasn’t surprised many of us headed off, since I remember quite vividly hearing this sentiment throughout first year: Journalism is dying. There are no J jobs. But there are, and in the ways I will soon discuss – there will also be some for next year’s grads too.

There were many factors leading me to my new home in Saskatoon – the perfect job, great timing, and my ability to do so without breaking the bank.  I had never been to Saskatoon before, but I remembered a former grad talking about her experience working there, and  then this tweet popped up a few weeks later:

The article, published by J Source, is titled “Why Saskatchewan is a good place to be a journalist” and all bolded quotes are taken from there. The first half epitomizes all that J students know and love about “smaller markets”: you get well-rounded professional experience quickly…

“I think it’s a great place for new grads looking to get started,” says To. “You can become a reporter here quicker simply because it’s a smaller centre and you can get valuable experience.” 

And, as in my own case, a lot of responsibility to tackle many jobs; you’re no longer the one-trick pony. You’re the pony who can gallop, trot, shoot stories, switch, create graphics, and work the magic on-air. While the obvious benefit to working in a smaller market is a gold mine for giddy J grads, Saskatchewan has become a perfect storm for those pursuing a career in an industry some think is dying…

 “The job possibilities for journalists aren’t as bad as they have been made out to be —  at least not in Saskatchewan. The economy is booming, advertising dollars are flowing and new outlets are popping up like spring flowers.” 

This is really why Saskatchewan is the place to be, journalist or not. The boom directly contributes to overall growth and betterment of the province. Not to mention the creation of new journalism jobs, so one doesn’t have to wait for other employees to retire or depart…

“There are a number of reasons why journalism jobs are more abundant in Saskatchewan, one being that half of Saskatchewan’s population lives in small communities, many with local newspapers that need journalists.” 

“The resource boom is another reason, and as Eric Howe, an economics professor at the University of Saskatchewan explains, the province has a resource boom about every 25 years.”

This resource boom is a huge part of why I love Saskatoon – there are young people, new infrastructure projects and an excitement about what’s next. Of course with all that, comes a scrambling for housing. I shopped on Kijiji for roommates and places to live, lucking out with a brand new home shared among four people. Rent is affordable for the most part, and so is gas – since a ride on Circle Drive (which requires almost no stopping) gets you to work quickly and efficiently.

The biggest thing I’ve noticed: Saskatoon has its act together because it accepts that while it’s not the biggest market – it’s also not the smallest. Coming from Brandon, this place is the perfect size and temperament for a budding (or even fully blossomed) journalist. All the media folk are friendly, with a healthy dose of competitive bite, and compelling stories.

Oh and did I mention there’s some damn good journalism happening here?

“There’s more competition in the media right now than I’ve seen in quite a while and hopefully that’s going to be generating more jobs,” says Elliot. “So, I think Saskatchewan is a great place for any young journalist to start their career.”

The article then moves on to explore the University of Regina journalism program, in particular how grads are getting jobs. The metaphorical hairs on my back usually stand up when J schools are mentioned, because I’m a Creative Communications grad – a J grad – even though it’s not solely a  J program. Call me a dreamer, but I like rooting for the underdog, and it’s so rewarding to see my classmates grabbing up industry jobs (our stats on grad hire rates are higher than those in the article, but I digress).

One thing that helps our program – and all J programs for that matter – are work placements or internships. Ours are quite different, however, from the U of R. Where we are guaranteed 3 weeks, unpaid (unless otherwise negotiated) – theirs are 13 weeks, paid…

“It is a 100 per cent requirement of the employer that we get paid because you get what you pay for,” says Heroux [ U of R student]. “To be frank, something like six weeks is not enough to establish yourself and an unpaid internship is not enough to establish yourself.” 

It’s interesting because I both agree and disagree with this U of R student. Firstly, I agree that payment ought to be given for the work, on the argument the student makes in the first half of the quote. It’s the argument you will get from any Regina J student. Also, I’d be damn well pissed if I had to work 13 weeks full-time without making something for it. Or I’d just starve, silently.

Here’s my slight disagreement: both of my two “not enough to establish yourself” internships led to jobs. I interned at the Brandon Sun (of my own accord, not related to school) and the Winnipeg Free Press, which aided me in landing the full-time military beat reporter position at the Sun.

I also spent three weeks at Shaw TV Winnipeg, where I established myself enough to be strongly supported by those working there for the position I currently have at Shaw TV Saskatoon.

And I worked my ass off for it. Those six weeks – which turned into roughly 13 when adding on additional freelance work I did following the placements – were exhausting. But that’s the card we’re dealt in the Creative Communications Program and I wouldn’t change my experience for the world.

Just like any deadline – 13 weeks or three – you get it done, and you get it done well with what you’re given. Arrange meetings with the directors before starting, come prepared with story ideas – ones that will actually make it to air or print – and better yet, be a decent individual.

That’s a damn good way to establish yourself.

So why did I leave for Saskatchewan? Timing, the company, and most importantly – it’s the job I wanted.  It’s not an easy decision to make, it just worked out that most of my family was no longer in Winnipeg and that the most difficult piece of any puzzle – the heart – was already decided since my boyfriend and I split months before I landed the Saskatoon job.

Having my current experience, and reading the article – there are even more merits to starting a J career in Saskatchewan. If all you take out from it is that small markets are great places to work, you’re ahead; because frankly, if you love what you do, it won’t matter where you do it.

You may even find yourself in very green (…white and black…) pastures.

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