It’s Potato Day at The Times-Tribune. Every St. Patrick’s Day, the Employee Relations Committee provides baked potatoes the size of footballs with all the fixings. As workplace perks go, Potato Day is second only to Chili Day. Some of us look forward to it all year.

I passed on the potato today. So did some of my neighbors in the cubicle farm. I’m sure the food and the good souls serving it are keeping things safe, but I’m just not feeling it today. About an hour ago, we closed the Times Building to the public and there’s a lot of chatter about how long we ink-stained wretches will keep coming into the newsroom. Many of us can work remotely, but if and when that happens isn’t up to us.

Wherever we end up working, timely, useful — and yes, entertaining — community journalism is our standard and we will meet it. I am proud to be part of this team and honored to have a role in writing the first draft of history. Hunter S. Thompson was right: “When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.”

How did you spend this strange day? Maybe in the office, or at home with the kids. Maybe you’re a service worker, first responder or medical professional. Maybe there’s an unsung hero or someone who’s really struggling in your neighborhood we should know about. Email me at or and I’ll share your stories here.

We are still here and so are you. We will get through whatever comes next together, one day at a time. Hang in there, hunker down and wash your hands. The bumpy part starts right about now.