Mantova Nicolò, engineer, one month after the master’s degree, is already working in Ferrari. Michela, her mother and my colleague, is over the moon. “Who did he get it from?” He does her dream job. The other evening in a wonderful agricultural court where you can eat Mantua at the height of the Mantuan tradition, in Sarginesco, my friend Carlo Ballarino, whom I had not seen for a long time, tells me with great enthusiasm: “what a nice job the journalist!” Well, dear Carlo, even the doctor is not bad. Shortly before the notary Omero Araldi introducing me to some members of the Academy of Cuisine at the word “journalist” some widened their eyes. I don’t know if it was out of wonder or concern.
I greet with great affection other friends who I meet there at Mainolda in a campaign that celebrates and symbolizes our history and our geography: the historian of our traditions Giancarlo Malacarne and the super photographer of Mantua Arrigo Giovannini.
Oh well, life is beautiful because it is varied. And it always reserves surprises. All jobs are important, some indeed many are indispensable. The farmer, the pilot, the doctor, the mechanic, the cook, the bricklayer, the engineer and the journalist – to give just a few examples – are indispensable. The influencer a little less. Useful for charity but perhaps not essential.
Excluding the robotic replacement or integration of many professions, there are some professions that fully depend on the human brain. More or less bright brain but still brain.
The surgeon who operates remotely and uses the robot dominates gestures and choices with his brain. The algorithm that puts our passions in a row on the net on the basis of our words of the search engine string still needs a human thought upstream and a control in procedure.
For years we have tried to make newspapers without journalists, at least on an experimental level with the combination of semio-semantic strings on the net and the exploitation of long queues. But the beautiful piece on the tip of a pen on a late autumn you understand immediately if a computer or a human with a transversal spirit did it, but also without. I understood that the journalist would be my job when I saw Renato Bonaglia, historical correspondent of the newspaper from the Bassa, writing his correspondence, with care and scruple, with dedication and passion. A paved road was news, even now for the truth.
And telling the retirement of the postman or the teacher was and is at the local level like telling the latest from Biden or Putin. I then happened to find an article by Edgarda Ferri, a well-known journalist and writer, describing the hectic hours of a night in the editorial office. Fantastic. Dependent on fate and coincidences.
You arrive around 8.30 and read more or less 20 newspapers. Then there is the summary meeting. 9 and 30 then 10. Half an hour and there is the meeting for the weeklies. In between, the meeting for the economy. Phone calls and various questions. Then, depending on the days, there is the web meeting and Buongiorno Regione and it is already noon. And look at the titles and the ready pieces. Agencies play you three beeps per second. Have you seen the Corriere home? The president of the court is looking for you. Hope for the best. Then time runs out and there is the first closure for the first edition. After that, 14 and 20 begins the broadcast of Piazza Affari. Important. You can’t get a decimal wrong. A Cell rings, a colleague from Rome asks for a piece on fog. But there is no fog, we have a piece on smog. That’s okay. Do you have Sala’s sentence? Then there is the first meeting in the afternoon 3:15 pm for the radio and TV editions of the evening then you have to choose the radio and TV pieces for evening and sunrise tomorrow. And it’s already 4:20 pm. An hour for tomorrow’s stories and it’s past 5 pm.
A coffee at the machines and you discover that you haven’t had lunch, but that’s okay. Then signatures on phone calls on phone calls and 200 emails that tell you what about us ?! Then it’s 6:30 pm title and news to do and / or check and discuss on words and commas. Sorry, but where is the ufologist carabiniere? Ah, gidieffe operation. Then on the air and it’s 8pm. Then you say: I’m going out. Murder in the Como area. Ok let’s see, and it’s 9pm. The pitying colleague tells you: let’s eat something here at Cosimo’s fast? And it’s 11pm. Ten agencies and it’s midnight. Dawn is approaching.
The time of a dream and it is already morning.
There are 20 new newspapers waiting for you. And hundreds of agencies. And it starts again. All over again. It’s the press, baby. Luckily we like it.
He says: but does the time pass you? What time? But that’s okay, it’s not just a job. It is a pleasant irreplaceable disease. For 40 years.
And it doesn’t heal. If anything it gets worse. There is no medicine that takes.
We are talking about one of the two most beautiful professions in the world.
The other is the farmer. But the psychologist is also not bad. In short, the other best job is the one that each of us feels on and is more useful to others.