I WAS booed this week. And I am so unused to that sort of thing, I had to look up how to spell it in the dictionary.
Now I know that being an editor won’t make me, or anyone, universally popular - it’s not that sort of job - but it was still a bit of a moment.
There I was minding my own business, having a free ham sandwich at Ed Miliband’s bit of a do, when I got a mention in the man himself’s speech - and instantly got the full boo-hiss treatment normally reserved for Baron von Very Bad Villain in the local panto.
Not so much he’s behind you, as he’s writing about you. Boo. Hiss. Get off the stage. (Not that I was on it, Ed was, and a nice job he made of it too, even when his microphone packed up mid-speech).
Anyway I am made of fairly tough stuff, 25 years on newspapers will do that to you, and I take it all in good heart. In fact I was intrigued. I wish I could have sat down with the booers (I have just had to look that up too) to discuss what it was the paper has done to upset them. I would have said look, if you’re fed up with us write to us, talk to us, tell us what you think.
The paper is here to serve the whole community, it’s not ours, it’s yours. We, like most people I have met in this town at all levels and in all professions, have the interests of the town at heart. We all share that basic fact as a common agenda.
We’re not political, we’ve no axe to grind. We’re here to honestly and fairly report, reflect, analyse, criticise, and entertain. We will always promote what is best about our town and never fail to stick up for the little guy. Any of that worth a cheer?