That Time I Came in Third Place in the Robert Benchley Writing Contest.

But the poor guy in my essay...not so lucky.

Not the guy…but could be. Photo: Pexel

I’d completely forgotten that I’d come in third place in a writing contest named for the irrepressible but all-but-forgotten humorist Robert Benchley. This was a few years ago, and I didn’t win, so, as much as I’m an admirer of Benchley, having watched his already old skits in our darkened neighborhood movie theater where matinees cost 12 cents for children under 12, which I milked until I was 15, then later reading his written works which turned out to be as laugh-out-loud, I’m going to forgive myself for forgetting and not let it be because I’m old and we old people tend to forget things.

I’d been half-looking for this particular essay to see if it would fit in that book of essays I may someday actually publish, but I couldn’t remember the title or even where I’d first published it—or even that I’d entered it in a contest.

I think I’d forgotten that part of it because coming in third place turned out to be such a nothing the contest folks forgot to even mention it to me. I had to find out on my own. One day there it was, on Facebook—my name in a list with two others on the page kept up to honor Benchley with anything that might come up that brings attention to him in a time when few people, young or old, have ever even heard of him.

I wasn’t the winner, to be sure, and I don’t know how many writers submitted work, but Number Three is better than Number Four, who didn’t get mentioned at all. So why did nobody on the committee think to tell me personally? I have no idea. But I wrote about that, too.

But about the essay: It began life as a newspaper column back in the 1980s after I’d read about this particular event in a small-town newspaper while vacationing in the Upper Peninsula. It always struck me as the kind of zany, off-the-wall story that might make total sense if I’d known more about what made that man do what he did. But that never happened so I had to guess. And this is what came of it.

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Budget Cutting the Hard Way

I read in the paper that the city manager of a certain Up North town came up with a clever idea for saving roughly ten percent of the town’s $300,000 annual budget. He recommended that council eliminate the city manager’s position. He said it out loud and three in the audience said they couldn’t hear him, but the other four said they did. It was out there.

Now, normally this particular council would be slow to act on anything the city manager might suggest, but this time they barely took time to blink and clear their throats before they voted unanimously in favor of the proposal.

After the final vote, the now ex-city manager, apparently dazzled by his own audacity, could be heard muttering, “It wasn’t an easy decision. I don’t enjoy getting rid of myself.”

I shouldn’t wonder. It’s never easy getting rid of oneself. It’s especially difficult to get rid of oneself and still be around to say, “I don’t enjoy getting rid of myself.” One usually doesn’t have that option.

Personally, I think that particular council acted a little hastily. What if, in the act of doing his duty, in the heat of the budget-cutting moment, he simply forgot who the city manager was?

Of course, it could be he was grandstanding. He could have been saying, in effect, “See, I’m taking my budget-cutting responsibilities so seriously, I’m even willing to let you consider doing away with–heh, heh–my job. Of course, I don’t expect you to really do it; it’s just my little way of expressing my willingness to explore all options. Heh, heh.”

But maybe council had other things on their minds and didn’t get the “heh, heh”.

Another possibility is that he really had been thinking of getting rid of himself. It can happen. I’ve done it myself from time to time. Luckily, since there was no urgency attached to my decision, I’ve been saved up to now by my penchant for procrastination. Then, too, there wasn’t $30,000 at stake. Nor did I have to worry about an over-zealous town council being ready to pounce on my ponderings at any given moment, then rushing to make them a reality before I could even say, “Kidding!”

Whatever the reasons, what’s done is done, and the end of this strange-but-true story is sad, if predictable. Since that unfortunate turn of events, the now ex-city manager hasn’t had one single job offer. In all honesty, could he have expected anything else? Seems to me he could at least have worded his announcement a little differently. There aren’t many employers willing to go out on a limb and hire a man who had just recently gotten rid of himself.

It stands to reason that any potential employer /interviewer would have no choice but to scribble across the now ex-city manager’s application, “The applicant lacked substance.”

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