Tom And Me

by Brendan Smith
Weirs Times Editor

I feel Tom Brady’s pain.
After all, we are kindred spirits.
This year we both have some soul searching to do as we face free agency. We’re both also looking into the eyes of Father Time.
I don’t usually like to pull the reader into my professional life, but for those of you who have been following and reading this column for years, I think it only fair that you are aware of the situation.
Last year, the end of the decade also marked the end of my current contract extension and with that the decision of whether to continue.
Of course, if I had a contract that already extended out beyond this year, I’d be more than ready to pull on the old familiar bathrobe, brew a cup of coffee, switch on the laptop and just continue to keep churning out columns like I have been doing for the past twenty-five years. I wouldn’t even be thinking twice.
But now, as I am turning sixty-five this year without a contract, it’s not all as cut and dry as that.
I can remember my first few years, my rookie season especially. It was 1995 and I only contributed a column every month or so; I was learning the ropes. I didn’t know if I’d ever make it, maybe I’d burn out or succumb to serious carpal tunnel like some of the other has been columnists.
After a few years I was writing a column every other week and, eventually, every week. I had my share of injuries that could have sidelined me (the infamous hangnail incident of 2012 almost ended my career) but I did what I had to to keep going.
I thought I had a pretty good season in 2019. Of course, not all of the critics agreed. Some said that I had lost my touch; was not as funny as I had been in the past. (Of course, they said that in 2013 as well. But by the end of that year, if you remember, I had put out some of my best work.) Others point to the fact that there were more than a few columns that seemed suspiciously like older ones and even some blatant reprints from my two books.
I am not going to argue those points, they are true. But, hey, if a certain play has worked well over the years, wouldn’t Brady go back and use it once in a while? Why should it be any different with me? The columns still achieved their goal of making folks laugh.
Still, the grumbling about my age hasn’t gone away and I understand that. Some are wondering if I can keep up with the grueling, once a week, eight-hundred-word schedule. And, unlike a professional athlete, there is no off-season to rest up in the newspaper columnist business.
I will be the first to admit that I’m not the same agile writer I was those twenty-five years ago who could jump out of bed, hit the keyboard running and pound out a few hundred witty words before the coffee was even brewed.
Today, I need a few extra minutes to stretch out the black muscles, scoff down the necessary medications and hope the arthritis in my knee isn’t acting up so I can make it up the stairs to my office. But once I get there, my experience overcomes my present shortcomings and the job always gets done, one way or another.
I know there are more than a few of you out there who are hoping that I just close up my laptop for good. I’ve read the hate mail over the years from those who just wish I’d give it up. Those who celebrated in the failures of some of my columns, quickly espousing to the world on social media that I had reached my peak; that it’s all over for me. Then the next week when I threw out some of my best work, there was barely a peep from the critics.
This past year my less than stellar columns haven’t really been all my fault. A columnist is only as good as the material he has to work with. And let’s face it, it’s hard to take on any subject without some group expressing their offense. A sense of humor is lacking in way too many.
But it isn’t up to me now. I think I have a few more years in me (at least until I can collect full Social Security). I know that there are some younger columnists who would love to step into my sneakers, and I know that will happen sooner than later.
For now, I’ll do the best to make my case. I certainly wouldn’t want to finish my career at another publication. But who knows what tomorrow will bring.
It could be that both Tom Brady and me will soon be riding off into the sunset together.
Only time will tell.

Brendan is the author of “The Flatlander Chronicles” and “Best Of A F.O.O.L In New Hampshire”. His newest book “I Really Only Did It For The Socks & Other Tales Of Aging” will be available this spring. Brendan has also entertained audiences around New Hampshire with his storytelling presentations. To find out more visit his website at
BrendanTSmith.com