"It is a simple task to make things complex, but a complex task to make them simple."

                                                                       -Murphy's Law

Have you ever seen "It's A Wonderful Life?"  For those who lead a sheltered life, it is about a man who does not realize how much he has until it is pointed out to him by a guardian angel. His life was not extraordinary, but the little things he accomplished made a world of difference.

I have never really sat back and pondered the meaning of life, nor have I had any spirits come visit me.  But recently, I had the chance to finally step back and look at the whole picture.  I volunteered to participate in a research project conducted on the effects of collegiate journalism, both in writing and life skills.

I am not usually at a loss for words.  But I met my match.  In the 45-minute interview, I was asked about my favorite journalistic experience and the effect of having a leadership position over a group of peers.

Those were easy.  Those are the questions a writer is asked all the time.  I thought I was in the clear, heading for the home stretch.  But there had to be one last question:  “If you could write a story on your journalistic life, what would your lead be?”

I did not have a witty reply to that one.  I sat back in the nice office furniture and tried to sum up my past three years in a sentence.  Have you ever tried to do that?  It is not easy.  I did not know  whether to be creative or just get to the point.

My first thought was to make a corny response, like these have been the best years of my life.  But I would be lying if I said that my life did not begin until I got my first article in print.  True, I have had some wonderful experiences-and some bad ones-but there are more important things to appreciate in life.

So, the cheesy route would not work.  My next option was to say journalism has taught me not only how to write, but how to be myself.  That seemed a feasible choice, but then I hesitated.  Why would I say that when I am still learning and changing?  That response is the kind you make at a retirement dinner sitting next to your husband, not in some coffee-scented room being tape recorded.

By this time, the interviewer was ready to move on.  But I was not.  I was determined to think of a response, and to have it say all the things I needed and wanted to say.  The response should reflect what I had been taught over the past three years, and the people I had met.  I formed all the right words and was ready to answer.

"Journalism at the collegiate level has given me the opportunity to..."

But right at that moment the recorder ran out of tape.  Was that a sign that what I was about to say was not what I really felt?  I was ready to give up.  I did not have much time to think; the woman loaded a new cassette into the machine, and asked me the question one more time.  It all-of-a-sudden hit me.

"Murphy’s Law says that if anything can go wrong, it will, but I say that if Murphy’s Law can go wrong, it will."