Now selling -- the continuing story of your life. Only 75 cents per chapter. Is it overpriced?

One of the most important things the Pontotoc Progress offers its readers is that it tells their life story.

In a nutshell, we're your biographer. We chronicle your path through life.

We've been writing the stories of local folks' lives for a good many years, and we hope to continue doing it a good many years more.

Though probably not with the same staff.

Consider your journey through life, via the newspaper.

We will probably run a picture of you when you are born.

If you start getting on school honor rolls, your name will show up in the paper again.

If you play on a school team and do much more than warm a bench, or you're in the band or in a play, or you start winning beauty pageants -- cuter than a handful of kittens -- you'll most likely see your name in the paper. If you do well, there will probably be a picture somewhere along the way.

When you graduate, well, there you are again, in the pages of the Pontotoc Progress. And there's your picture, too, rugged good looks and manly chin, or, as the case may be, svelte shape and a face beautiful enough to make a bishop kick a hole in a stained glass window.

When you go off to college, or the military, there your name will be again.

When you show up on the college's honor roll, or get that next chevron or rocker, yep, there's you in the paper again.

When you get married, jump the broom, whatever, your name and picture may show up in our pages again.

When your first child comes along -- and all the rest of them, for that matter -- your name will be published again, with a picture of your youngster or youngsters, if you wish.

As you do well in your life's calling, we'll be there to let thousands of folks know you were taken note of, promoted, recognized, honored, ordained, canonized, whatever.

If you flub up, make enough waves in your floundering to come to the attention of the court system, you'll be in the newspaper too, but that's a whole 'nother column.

When you stop engaging in planned grandparenthood -- in other words, finally have grandchildren or even great-grandchildren -- well, you know who will be you know where.

When you retire, your name and picture may show up in the newspaper yet again. Goodbye, good luck, thanks for all you've done, the slap-up party, handshake, gold watch and everything.

By now, the smooth face is gone, the sharp angles blurred, the once-svelte shape a memory.

The bishop who trashed the window has long since gone on to his just reward, where hopefully, balanced against all the good he did on Earth, that transgression has been forgiven.

The lines and seams in those older faces are hard-earned badges of honor, hash marks denoting a long life of challenges, of accomplishment, and finally, of a time to continue to be productive, but to work at one’s own pace, quit when they want, enjoy the quiet time.

And when you die, your name will be in our pages one last time.

So far, we haven't figured out a way to picture you wherever you eventually go after you die, or interview anyone who's been there. E-mail has its limits.

Until that time, we offer you womb to the tomb coverage.

To repeat the phrase you often hear on TV ads: "But wait -- there's more."

Your name may again be in the newspaper, even after you're gone.

Folks often come by the office, doing research on their ancestors, asking for information about various forbears. That often means a letter to the editor.

And in the letter, there you are, in the newspaper again by name and/or picture, probably looking better there than you do right now.

In sum, telling your life story, and that of thousands of other local people, means you get a lot of value for the 75 cents we charge per issue. Of course, you pay even less, if you subscribe.

And to those of you who think the newspaper is overpriced, well, you know what your life story is worth...

Recommended for you

comments powered by Disqus