Living life ‘on the record’ can be strange

Living life ‘on the record’ can be strange

David Trinko dtrinko@limanews.com - 01.07.2008

Our relationship seemed destined for strangeness the first time she asked me, “Is this on the record?”
Most people don’t have to answer that question on a date. It goes with the territory when you’re in the exciting and somewhat stressful world of journalism.
“On the record” is journalism talk for “it’s OK to tell everyone.” When you speak to a reporter or an editor, you run the risk of telling the whole world, if that person merely deems it important enough to tell the world.
This “on the record” question becomes more complicated each day I’m married to my wife.
I only covered one story involving Jessica when I was a reporter, and that was long before our first date. We’ve both grown to have a bit of sway in our workplaces, despite the other’s career.
Now I’m a mid-level editor at the local daily newspaper. She’s the nursing home administrator and county administrator in Putnam County, one of the nine counties we cover.
To some people, this might make us a power couple. From where I sit, it only makes a powerful headache.
There’s a perception that any time the newspaper hears about anything that happened in the county where she works, she must have leaked it to me. There’s no credit offered for the sources I developed in nearly two years working that same beat. There’s also little credit given that I still live in that county and see people daily.
There’s a sense that she tells me the county’s deepest, darkest secrets every day, and I cover them up so they’re not stressful for her. There’s no recognition that much of what we print about her bosses, the county commissioners, is less than positive about them.
I’m reminded of a question someone asked her before she received her current job: “Do you ever talk in your sleep?”
I’m also reminded of a snide remark I’ve heard both ways in the village where we live, that she works for The Lima News or that I work for the county.
This relationship makes for interesting conversations, no doubt. What most folks fail to realize is these conversations aren’t so different from the ones you have with your spouse.
We talk about the people we work with and what they’ve done to stress us out. We talk about funny things occurring in the workplace. We giggle about people who should know better when they say something out of line. It’s more gossip-driven and personality-driven than anything, just like the conversations you have with your spouse.
There are occasions when the “on the record” part comes into play. She’ll playfully ask if she’s talking to husband David or newspaper David. Occasionally I’ll jokingly query, “Can I quote you on that?”
There are times she plants an idea for a story. I’d lie if I said that never happened. It’s handy to hear how things work from the other side. It helps me direct a reporter on how or where to gather a piece of information vital to the public’s right to know how its government represents it.
I’ve never found myself hyping or silencing a story simply because she is involved. In fact, to the chagrin of my bosses, I refuse to read stories that include my wife’s name before they appear in the newspaper. I won’t say where I think a story affecting her or her bosses should appear in the newspaper.
It’s a simple thing called ethics. Ethics isn’t just my unwillingness to accept a lunch for something I cover if the public can’t get that same thing. It’s living a life that, hopefully, people will laugh if someone ever suggests I’m dishonest or unfair.
It’s accepting that I live a life that’s always on the record, even if everyone else doesn’t.