They say coaches are hired to be fired.

In much the same way, newspaper editors are hired to write their farewell column.

This is mine.

My 66th birthday is Aug. 22 so I’m retiring before the government ups the official Social Security collection age again. In the newspaper game these days it’s quite an accomplishment to leave on your own terms.

My entry into journalism out of college was rocky so I consider myself the King of Second Chances to have been able to come back and edit my hometown paper.

Speaking of second chances, I owe the biggest gratitude to my wife, Marge. Through constant support (and a little trickery) she got me here.

I also owe gratitude to previous editor Maggie Larrick who hired me. It might have been a safer choice to go with an eager beaver young Journalism school grad. Maggie expected excellence and expected I would expect excellence from myself. She once said, as I was retreating out her door to get still more detail on a story, “We aren’t the New York Times but that doesn’t mean we can’t try to be.”

I’ve had the privilege to work all these years for our legendary publisher, Jerry Robinson, who amazingly is still hanging in there at 93 providing his humorous column and this newspaper for his community. His sons, Tim, Ken and Pat are carrying on for Jerry.

I am not an historian but, counting the many years Ralph Nichols partnered with me as co-editor, I am laying claim, at 13 years, to being the second longest serving Highline Times editor. I always respected Ralph's bulldog reporting and professional writing style.

By the way, Reid Hale, who was the editor as I was growing up in Burien, has the Highline Times editorship record at 18 years.

I attribute my ability to get along with Victoria Persons, Stevie VanBronkhorst and Taylor Noel, who put the paper together and offered occasional therapy, to the fact I never pretended to know anything about graphic design. They made me look good.

In my stories, I tried to convey what you, my wonderful readers, wanted to know and what you should know about your community.

I’m thinking back to my start on the Wenatchee newspaper. With a metro population of about 40,000 and another 10,000 scattered all over North Central Washington, we put out a daily newspaper with seven city reporters and two bureau reporters. Highline’s five cities have about 130,000 residents. I regret I didn’t have a roomful of reporters hanging around and waiting for me to dispatch them out to all your stories.

I can tell you Highline has just as many interesting news items, colorful people and, dare I say, great story arcs as anywhere.

And I managed to find ways to write columns about some non-local fascinating folks by finding a hook to Highline. Many times the tie-in was ChoralSounds Northwest—Pat Cashman, Dave Ross and Stan Boreson.

I did a column on Pat O’Day about Burien’s Schick Shadel Hospital, hydros and radio. I called him back on another story and mentioned the previous column. So when we ended the call, he said, “Nice to talk to you again” like we were old buddies. Wow!

Back in my teenage years, radio godfather O’Day played the hits of artists like Barry McGuire and Chad and Jeremy—I wrote columns on them, too.

I got to not only write a column on Pulitzer Prize-winning photographer Jerry Gay but also to become his colleague and friend.

I also interviewed the guy with the coolest nickname in sports--the Throwin’ Samoan, Jack Thompson from my beloved WSU. He told me that despite all his great college and pro games, one of his most memorable contests was when he quarterbacked Cascade Jr. High against Puget Sound Jr. High with his brother laughing at him on the sidelines.

Some writers take a little red wagon to the Washington Newspaper Publishers Association convention to haul all their awards home. In 2006, I was happy to win one first place award for best humorous columns. One of the three submissions wasn’t even supposed to be funny. I actually consider my percentage of contest entries to wins pretty good.

Because a fellow reporter had to take his lady to a movie on a Friday night I ended up snapping a photo that helped illustrate a story in the New York Times. I have no illusions it was a good photo but at least I can identify myself as “The reporter-photographer, Mr. Mathison, whose work appears in the New York Times.”

As I leave, I can’t resist one cranky rant.

In this new world of journalism with blogs and instant posting, some say no reporter can be truly objective. Besides, objective reporting is not as interesting, doesn’t appeal to the target audience or doesn’t generate enough web comments.

I agree that we all have different experiences that color our interpretation of events. But I also believe that just because you can’t be totally objective doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.

It’s been an honor to be editor of the newspaper that I read as a kid in the community where I grew up and care deeply about.

It may be hard to miss me if I won’t go away.

But my plan is to become even more involved in the community. My parents, Bernadine and Ted Mathison set the bar high for community service. My brother and sister-in-law, Phil and Leona Mathison have kept that bar high for their little brother.

So if you need some help, let me know.

When one door shuts, another one opens.

I’m sure I’ll miss the people and the paper but retirement sure sounds enticing.

As the end is near and I face the final curtain, Marge suffers as I warble, “Regrets, I’ve had a few, but too few to mention….I did it my waaaay!”

Another lyric from some gal named Alice Cooper is also stuck in my head:
“School’s out for summer.
“School’s out forever.”