SevenQuestions: Beth Reid

Seven answers on 7Q (also known as the FAQs of life.)
Interviewed by Tom Mangan

Beth Reid, world traveler, friend of the family.

AUTHORS

Michael Fuchs
Elizabeth Hilts
Paul Riddell
Gary Rivlin
Jim Motavalli
Barbara Shafferman
Jules Siegel
Keith Snyder

ARTISTS/POETS/
PHILOSOPHERS

Jon C. Allen
Will Baker
Mike Leung
Jon Sarkin

COOL SITE KEEPERS

Mike Cash
Scott O'Neal Colf
Godfrey Daniels
Cliff Davis, DDS
Tammy Hocking
Wes Modes
Frank Rogan

DIARISTS

Ralph Becker
J. D. Bruns
Linda DeVault
Mike Reed
Moira Richardson
Jessamyn West

FILMMAKERS

Ben Kufrin
Dean Mermell

JOURNALISTS

Bernie
Mary Cooley-Jones
Lindsay Crysler
Jamie Dupree
M.O.A.T.M.A.I.
David Moll
Robert Niles
John Orr
Steven Ovadia
Pierce Presley
Mack Reed
Rip Rense
Curtis Ross
Neal Ross
John Scalzi
Catherine Seipp
David Sheets
Dwight Silverman
Matt Welch

MOVIE MAVENS

MaryAnn Johanson
Brian Koller

HUMORISTS

Debbie Farmer
Mike Jasper
Madeleine Begun Kane
Patrick Keller
Bob Sassone
Valerie Sprague
Ken Swarmer
Ian Wolff

SOLDIERS

Maj. Jon Anderson, USAF

TEACHERS

John Warner

TECHIES

Chris Adamson
Mike Gunderloy
Michael Ivey
Greg Knauss
Floyd Maxwell
Ellen McDonough
Mike Pingleton
Wayne Thume
John Worth

TEENS

Gary Baum
Marty Beckerman

UNDECLARED

Bev Gibbs
Beth Reid

WEBLOGGERS

Jason Kottke
Jish Mukerji

ONE
The way I hear it, it always sounds like you're at No. 2 on a to-do list with 927 items on it. How do you account for that?

Sloth. Indecisiveness. List loss (or, listlessness, if you prefer).

The same things keep getting written down over and over. Nothing is actually ever crossed off of the list. Well, sometimes I have missed the deadline on the No. 1 item, so that explains how I got to No. 2. The energy sources and drains of the universe are hard to explain. I try, and then I have to lie down. Or color. Or build a tower.

TWO
You come from a large family. Tell a story on your family about something which you suspect would never have happened in a one-child, two-parent household.

Honey, none of my childhood could have happened in a one-child, two-parent family. There was always someone else to take the blame if you could live with the accompanying Catholic guilt.

I had a wonderful childhood. We were a complete social unit, without need of outsiders, undoubtedly dysfunctional upon close examination, but with some shining qualities, for which all credit goes to my parents.

My favorite memories are from our family vacations. My dad loves to travel, but realized when I was about 10 that it was economically impossible to get very far with a family of eight if you stayed in hotels.

He had never camped in his life, but that year they borrowed the neighbors' 8x8 foot tent and we took off. It rained for the first two days, and we slept two deep in the borrowed tent. He didn't stop driving until the sun came out, and by then we were soggy, had arrived at Mammoth Cave and had fallen in love with camping.

After that year we drove thousands of miles for three weeks each summer, visiting national parks, monuments, and battlefields around the country and Canada. We packed our clothes in cardboard boxes, ate canned stew in the rain and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches while searching the trees above for tree snakes. We cheered when a site had flush toilets, and made a bucket brigade to unload sleeping bags and air mattresses. We weren't really roughing it, but we thought we were. (We did get a bigger tent, though.)

The best part now is that we all remember these trips differently, and can argue about who is right about what happened. (Only dad actually remembers the place names of many of the beautiful spots. We just say,"Remember the place where Bob sat on the cupcakes? Remember the time we set up camp at 10:30 pm and it was still light? Remember the bear and the broken outhouse door?")

THREE

My wife loves to tell stories about when you two and your sister Kathy were in Europe. What's something silly you did that she never found out about?

Vacation synergy is a mysterious power. If it is truly a vacation of a lifetime, traveling companions must go through a sequence of being bored, disgusted, angry, and finally admiring of each other. Sometimes the actual experience is a nightmare, only to be remembered fondly as the best of times. (This doesn't always happen with spouses traveling, as they go through these stages in the convenience of their own home.)

Although my memory is in sad shape of late, I remember kind of wishing that Melissa and I could somehow break away from Kathy for a while, and see some night life. (Kathy, a whole year older than we were, had healthy fear at this time. We did not. I realize now that it was probably better that we didn't get to go dancing at 3 am.) I also remember the lovely fancy hotel that Melissa treated us to, with its fancy soap and snooty concierge.

I vaguely remember making them both run through the Metro, and feeling like the Parisian bed and breakfasts (4th floor walkup) that we stayed in may have been too dirty for Melissa. (Although the breakfasts were wonderful.)

Many of the silly things I remember doing were when I was alone, before Kathy or Melissa arrived. I wanted to fit in as someone who, if not French, was at least an expatriate of some other difficult to determine country, and who was completely self-sufficient in France. I did things like work in a French family as a maid for spring break(they had to show me how to make tea), bicycle to St. Jean de Luz on the ocean from Pau (a distance of 100 kilometers) forgetting enough money for return train fare (the conductors took pity on me), and traveling to Barcelona with the French students who made up the Spanish club at the Universite de Pau. (And yes, I did dance until 3 am, with a sailor from the Netherlands.)

By the way, what has Melissa told you about our Bahamas trip? I remember the red snapper, the beach, Melissa's sun tea, Melissa's mouth dropping open upon entering the casino (blowing our weak attempt to appear experienced, as we were not yet legally of age to gamble), the cute little Portuguese guys who followed us and George the doorman, who probably saved our naive exuberance.

FOUR
What has your son Nathaniel, at the ripe old age of 1, done lately to make you think he's gonna turn out just like his old man?

Just today Jon showed him how to eat whipped cream straight out of the bowl. He is also fascinated by reading material of any kind, and although he is possibly above average for his age at not bending or ripping his books, like his dad he feels the need to leave them lying everywhere. (Gotta read, right now. No time to make it to the bookshelf.)

FIVE
Think back 10 years and try to remember what you thought your life would be like in another 10 years.

What's the difference between what you thought then and how it actually is now? I thought I would be Martha Stewart, Mrs. Brady, and R.K. Rowling rolled into one, with Madeleine Albright's travel budget. Gee, ten years ago, that's impossible, isn't it? Maybe those are my goals now -- except the Mrs. Brady part. I'd better put this on my to-do list.

SIX
How do you keep your software executive hubby down on the farm when he starts seeing Silicon Valley gold in his eyes?

I could go several ways here. After all, it was Jon who dragged me to this backwater state of Indiana in the first place, and I spent some years making excuses about how the people were really nice, even if they were incredibly closed-minded. I initially could count at least five recognizably different accents among the Indiana natives, and I cringed at some of the quaint grammatical errors I seemed to notice so regularly. Now I rarely notice an accent, although occasionally I get depressed thinking that I have acquired one.

As to how it happens that we are still here, perhaps I could explain by relating something Jon once said. After a wonderful vacation to the Pacific Northwest one year, we were driving back from the airport through the flat, uninspiring countryside. I was going into my usual post vacation funk. (I now realize that's what it is.) Jon turned to me and said, "You know, Washington is beautiful, but I think I'd miss the cornfields."

As a postscript, Jon thinks about that gold. Really he does. But we are both so damned realistic (read stodgy?) at heart, and put a certain faith in the old "Grass is always greener" adage. Who knows what the new millennium will bring?

SEVEN
When are you going to start writing for pay like you should've been doing all these years?

Oooh, an easy one. When you'll be my editor, of course. (Actually, it's No. 3 on my to-do list, so there may be no hope.)

THE BIG INDEX...
Who they are, what they do, how they think. Go there now.

A TO Z ARCHIVE...

Everybody here, with quickie bios. Go there now.

Return to the main Seven Questions page
See the original Newsies 7Q project

Contact info@sevenquestions.com
Copyright 1999-2002, Thomas L. Mangan



Seven answers on 7Q (also known as the FAQs of life.)	Interviewed by Tom Mangan Beth Reid, world traveler, friend of the family.	AUTHORS Michael Fuchs Elizabeth Hilts Paul Riddell Gary Rivlin Jim Motavalli Barbara Shafferman Jules Siegel Keith Snyder ARTISTS/POETS/ PHILOSOPHERS Jon C. Allen Will Baker Mike Leung Jon Sarkin COOL SITE KEEPERS Mike Cash Scott O'Neal Colf Godfrey Daniels Cliff Davis, DDS Tammy Hocking Wes Modes Frank Rogan DIARISTS Ralph Becker J. D. Bruns Linda DeVault Mike Reed Moira Richardson Jessamyn West FILMMAKERS Ben Kufrin Dean Mermell JOURNALISTS Bernie Mary Cooley-Jones Lindsay Crysler Jamie Dupree M.O.A.T.M.A.I. David Moll Robert Niles John Orr Steven Ovadia Pierce Presley Mack Reed Rip Rense Curtis Ross Neal Ross John Scalzi Catherine Seipp David Sheets Dwight Silverman Matt Welch MOVIE MAVENS MaryAnn Johanson Brian Koller HUMORISTS Debbie Farmer Mike Jasper Madeleine Begun Kane Patrick Keller Bob Sassone Valerie Sprague Ken Swarmer Ian Wolff SOLDIERS Maj. Jon Anderson, USAF TEACHERS John Warner TECHIES Chris Adamson Mike Gunderloy Michael Ivey Greg Knauss Floyd Maxwell Ellen McDonough Mike Pingleton Wayne Thume John Worth TEENS Gary Baum Marty Beckerman UNDECLARED Bev Gibbs Beth Reid WEBLOGGERS Jason Kottke Jish Mukerji



ONE	The way I hear it, it always sounds like you're at No. 2 on a to-do list with 927 items on it. How do you account for that? Sloth. Indecisiveness. List loss (or, listlessness, if you prefer). The same things keep getting written down over and over. Nothing is actually ever crossed off of the list. Well, sometimes I have missed the deadline on the No. 1 item, so that explains how I got to No. 2. The energy sources and drains of the universe are hard to explain. I try, and then I have to lie down. Or color. Or build a tower.



TWO	You come from a large family. Tell a story on your family about something which you suspect would never have happened in a one-child, two-parent household. Honey, none of my childhood could have happened in a one-child, two-parent family. There was always someone else to take the blame if you could live with the accompanying Catholic guilt. I had a wonderful childhood. We were a complete social unit, without need of outsiders, undoubtedly dysfunctional upon close examination, but with some shining qualities, for which all credit goes to my parents. My favorite memories are from our family vacations. My dad loves to travel, but realized when I was about 10 that it was economically impossible to get very far with a family of eight if you stayed in hotels. He had never camped in his life, but that year they borrowed the neighbors' 8x8 foot tent and we took off. It rained for the first two days, and we slept two deep in the borrowed tent. He didn't stop driving until the sun came out, and by then we were soggy, had arrived at Mammoth Cave and had fallen in love with camping. After that year we drove thousands of miles for three weeks each summer, visiting national parks, monuments, and battlefields around the country and Canada. We packed our clothes in cardboard boxes, ate canned stew in the rain and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches while searching the trees above for tree snakes. We cheered when a site had flush toilets, and made a bucket brigade to unload sleeping bags and air mattresses. We weren't really roughing it, but we thought we were. (We did get a bigger tent, though.) The best part now is that we all remember these trips differently, and can argue about who is right about what happened. (Only dad actually remembers the place names of many of the beautiful spots. We just say,"Remember the place where Bob sat on the cupcakes? Remember the time we set up camp at 10:30 pm and it was still light? Remember the bear and the broken outhouse door?")



THREE	My wife loves to tell stories about when you two and your sister Kathy were in Europe. What's something silly you did that she never found out about? Vacation synergy is a mysterious power. If it is truly a vacation of a lifetime, traveling companions must go through a sequence of being bored, disgusted, angry, and finally admiring of each other. Sometimes the actual experience is a nightmare, only to be remembered fondly as the best of times. (This doesn't always happen with spouses traveling, as they go through these stages in the convenience of their own home.) Although my memory is in sad shape of late, I remember kind of wishing that Melissa and I could somehow break away from Kathy for a while, and see some night life. (Kathy, a whole year older than we were, had healthy fear at this time. We did not. I realize now that it was probably better that we didn't get to go dancing at 3 am.) I also remember the lovely fancy hotel that Melissa treated us to, with its fancy soap and snooty concierge. I vaguely remember making them both run through the Metro, and feeling like the Parisian bed and breakfasts (4th floor walkup) that we stayed in may have been too dirty for Melissa. (Although the breakfasts were wonderful.) Many of the silly things I remember doing were when I was alone, before Kathy or Melissa arrived. I wanted to fit in as someone who, if not French, was at least an expatriate of some other difficult to determine country, and who was completely self-sufficient in France. I did things like work in a French family as a maid for spring break(they had to show me how to make tea), bicycle to St. Jean de Luz on the ocean from Pau (a distance of 100 kilometers) forgetting enough money for return train fare (the conductors took pity on me), and traveling to Barcelona with the French students who made up the Spanish club at the Universite de Pau. (And yes, I did dance until 3 am, with a sailor from the Netherlands.) By the way, what has Melissa told you about our Bahamas trip? I remember the red snapper, the beach, Melissa's sun tea, Melissa's mouth dropping open upon entering the casino (blowing our weak attempt to appear experienced, as we were not yet legally of age to gamble), the cute little Portuguese guys who followed us and George the doorman, who probably saved our naive exuberance.



FOUR	What has your son Nathaniel, at the ripe old age of 1, done lately to make you think he's gonna turn out just like his old man? Just today Jon showed him how to eat whipped cream straight out of the bowl. He is also fascinated by reading material of any kind, and although he is possibly above average for his age at not bending or ripping his books, like his dad he feels the need to leave them lying everywhere. (Gotta read, right now. No time to make it to the bookshelf.)



FIVE	Think back 10 years and try to remember what you thought your life would be like in another 10 years. What's the difference between what you thought then and how it actually is now? I thought I would be Martha Stewart, Mrs. Brady, and R.K. Rowling rolled into one, with Madeleine Albright's travel budget. Gee, ten years ago, that's impossible, isn't it? Maybe those are my goals now -- except the Mrs. Brady part. I'd better put this on my to-do list.



SIX	How do you keep your software executive hubby down on the farm when he starts seeing Silicon Valley gold in his eyes? I could go several ways here. After all, it was Jon who dragged me to this backwater state of Indiana in the first place, and I spent some years making excuses about how the people were really nice, even if they were incredibly closed-minded. I initially could count at least five recognizably different accents among the Indiana natives, and I cringed at some of the quaint grammatical errors I seemed to notice so regularly. Now I rarely notice an accent, although occasionally I get depressed thinking that I have acquired one. As to how it happens that we are still here, perhaps I could explain by relating something Jon once said. After a wonderful vacation to the Pacific Northwest one year, we were driving back from the airport through the flat, uninspiring countryside. I was going into my usual post vacation funk. (I now realize that's what it is.) Jon turned to me and said, "You know, Washington is beautiful, but I think I'd miss the cornfields." As a postscript, Jon thinks about that gold. Really he does. But we are both so damned realistic (read stodgy?) at heart, and put a certain faith in the old "Grass is always greener" adage. Who knows what the new millennium will bring?



SEVEN	When are you going to start writing for pay like you should've been doing all these years? Oooh, an easy one. When you'll be my editor, of course. (Actually, it's No. 3 on my to-do list, so there may be no hope.)


	THE BIG INDEX... Who they are, what they do, how they think. Go there now. A TO Z ARCHIVE... Everybody here, with quickie bios. Go there now. Return to the main Seven Questions page See the original Newsies 7Q project Contact info@sevenquestions.com Copyright 1999-2002, Thomas L. Mangan