Beauty in ordinary things

Heidi Hall had a serious managing editor look on her face when she came into my office Monday morning.

She said I should move my column to the Sunday space most recently occupied by Jean Bell Mosley's column. She had a list of reasons. Heidi said Jean Bell and I are alike in many ways, particularly our folksy writing style.

After Heidi finished her pitch, I said, "OK."

Jean Bell was, I dare say, our fair city's best-known and best-loved author. That's not to say that two other prominent Cape Girardeau authors -- David Limbaugh, whose first book made it to the New York Times best-seller list and who is about to have a second book published, and Morley Swingle, our yarn-spinning prosecuting attorney -- haven't made their literary marks. They have. But, relatively speaking, Limbaugh and Swingle are babes in the bookish world compared to Jean Bell, whose lifetime of books, articles and inspirational writing have lifted the spirits and elevated the minds of countless readers around the world.

So would I be honored to have my column appear in the same space on the same day as Jean Bell's? You bet I would.

But, really, Jean Bell and I are a lot more different than we are alike.

Yes, we would agree that the craft of stringing words together is a serious one -- one guided mostly by unknown muses. Jean Bell was a naturally gifted writer, just as some folks can combine paint and canvas into art and others can push the black-and-white keys of a piano and make music instead of noise. I am still a simple stringer of words aspiring to strike a literary chord on those rare occasions when my mind and fingers successfully rise above the writing fumbles that are so common to those of us who call ourselves columnists.

There are other differences too.

Jean Bell was gracious and charming. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a cynic first and a gentleman only if I remember the good manners my mother so patiently taught me.

Jean Bell was a PEO. I am a Rotarian. The difference? Rotarians do a lot of good things but spend an awful lot of time bragging to each other about their golf scores. Jean Bell was not the bragging sort, not even when she had ample opportunity after winning so much recognition for her writing efforts. I've never met a PEO you wouldn't want to claim as kinfolk. I'm not sure you can say that about me, the Rotarian.

Jean Bell was truly world-famous. I, on the other hand, have barely achieved a tiny bit of notoriety for promoting a nonexistent World-Famous Downtown Golf Course. There's a big difference right there. If you do an Internet search of Jean Bell Mosley, you will find she is quoted and lauded all over the World Wide Web. If you do an Internet search for me, you'll get this message: "Are you sure you have the correct name?"

Jean Bell's columns ended with an uplifting "Rejoice!" My columns, thankfully, end. Period.

This Sunday you will find in Jean Bell's column space some remarks made by her son, Steve, at her funeral. They are elegant and poignant words. Be sure to read them.

I have been happy to have a Friday column since 1971 in some newspaper or another. But Sunday after next, my column will become a Sunday column. Heidi said it was a good idea.

Do you believe in destiny? A group from the newsroom went to a Chinese restaurant for lunch yesterday as I was writing this column. My fortune cookie had this message: "You find beauty in ordinary things. Do not lose this ability."

A lot of folks would say, "That sounds like Jean Bell."

Yes. In my fortune cookie.

R. Joe Sullivan is the editor of the Southeast Missourian.