I expected a lot of things when I moved to Philadelphia. A cool city. A new adventure. A killer cheesesteak.
But a Pulitzer? Wow, Philly. Thanks.
The email from a new friend said: “You are too modest!” It was accompanied by a picture of a full-page ad for NewsWorks that appeared in the Philadelphia Inquirer last month calling me a…wait for it…two-time Pulitzer winner.
Imagine my surprise! Me, a two-timer, joining the ranks of Nicholas Kristof and Tom Fiedler and Rick Attig. Yay, me.
Actually, it was the first time I saw the ad and the whopper of a mistake. But it kind of explained the hairy eyeballs I’m convinced I’ve gotten from folks who only had to do a quick Google search to see that was one more than I actually have. I’d be jealous of me too.
In fact, I barely make mention of the one team Pulitzer I was (barely) part of in 1999. More often, and more accurately, I joke that I snuck in with the pizza boy.
On second thought, if I claim that second Pulitzer, can I get a free pizza?