Up in her large office with her favorite football available for passing to other writers walking by, C.J. explained my tasks, all concerning the “Best of Kansas City’ issue.

Entering the alcove near the newest issues of Pitch displayed on a table, I checked in at the front desk, and C.J. Janovy, the editor of Pitch, came down and met me at the door.
Up in her large office with her favorite football available for passing to other writers walking by, C.J. explained my tasks, all concerning the “Best of Kansas City’ issue. This issue comes out each year in the fall, and uses a positive point of view to tell readers of interesting people, places, restaurants, and music venues. It’s a collectible item, one that could be used throughout the year as a source for residents and visitors alike. C.J. gave me some leads to contact within the next few weeks: among her suggestions, three female Kansas sheriffs; a bank in Olathe converted to a Dairy Queen; a councilman’s idea to save Kansas City’s water. She said to send a few practice reviews to her via e-mail and she would critique them for me.
Then, Jen Chen, her office wall plastered with photos, her counter supporting four Pez dispensers depicting “The Simpson’s” characters and a variety of the latest newspapers, showed me around the three floors of Pitch, our editorial offices at the top, the others below.
First, she sat me down at my little cubicle overlooking Main Street and 17th. A good creative space, it contained a computer placed to allow me a wide panoramic view over the street onto an asphalt parking lot holding fifty cars. I also had plenty of supplies and a comfortable swivel chair.
Taking me on tour now, Jen demonstrated a bubbly laugh and was very at ease with the office people as she introduced me.
Each office was different, some people opting to keep their doors closed, others meticulous about their space. One very cluttered office caught my eye as I walked by. Every bit of floor space was covered with paper, magazines and CD cases. No one was home. Later, the denizen of the office was present: headphones on, listening to CD’s. Was he the music reviewer? I didn’t know yet, but I’d have to ask Jen.
Overall, as the previous day at KCPT, I met maybe twenty people, but Jen Chen was my number one helper, the receptionist, editor, who showed me around, giving me instructions for my e-mail and computer. She tried to get me an electronic door key so I could get into the building by myself, but the dispenser of keys wasn’t there. Maybe I’d get one tomorrow.
After Jen went back to her desk, I tired to re-program my phone and computer without success. Jen had explained things so fast I didn’t have a clue. This facet of my life at Pitch would haunt my days. I obsessed, I might never figure out the phone. I might never construct the computer so it recognized my name. That fear turned into my reality.
However, I did finish typing five different practice blurbs for the “Best Of” issue I was working on. I thought they’d be okay. I e-mailed them to C.J., hoping to get a critique on them, wondering if I was doing them the right way.
My first Pitch e-mail appeared on my screen, announcing that free preview tickets were available for the latest, controversial film, “Bubble Boy,” opening on August 24th. Jen said I should check some certain desk frequently for tickets. I wondered which desk. As a cinema buff, I certainly wanted to take advantage of any free tickets.
All in all, a nice opening day, full of information, quiet, and a lot of typing noises, punctuated by Jen’s happy laugh.
The next day, I arrived at my office at Pitch around 10 a.m. and set to work. First, CJ asked if I had e-mailed her. I said yes, but the five practice blurbs evidently did not get through to her e-mail. The problems with my computer intensified. It refused to recognize my name. So, I later sent her the blurbs from my computer at the College. This practice would become my ongoing technique, the Pitch computer never allowing me to use it properly.
Since C.J. gave me seven leads to run down the previous day, but no phone numbers, I had a typical journalist’s research to do. Using the web and the local phone book, I found all of the numbers within 45 minutes or so, writing them down for use tomorrow.
I also tried to program my phone again, but I had no extension number listed in Pitch’s listing. So far, I was invisible to the entire Pitch staff.
Calling Jen to come over, I asked her about my extension number, and she gave me my number, but I still could not get to the point where I could record my voice message. Then, since it was noon, I left for the College to write, getting frustrated by my inept efforts at Pitch.
Before leaving, I did meet Charles Ferruzza, the sometimes controversial, always outspoken reviewer of Kansas City’s restaurants whose office was next to mine. At one point, he asked my name again, and proceeded to get me involved in his work, too. “What do you call a bar which is run down and has a lot of drunks.” My mind came up with “flophouse,” which was obviously wrong. But somehow my answer triggered his own memory bank and he came up with it himself. “Dive!” he shouted out, to no one in particular, going back to his typing and ignoring me for the rest of the day.