As I was leaving work tonight, a co-worker/friend and I were talking about some things I write and for the first time someone called me an “investigative reporter.”

To be clear, she used it in a descriptive manner when talking about my inquisitive nature.

I thought about it as I drove home. I’ve always been inquisitive and not afraid to ask any question (hey, no one’s forcing an answer!) but investigative… that word. It stuck with me and my brain started thinking….

Now, unless you’ve been under a rock lately, chances are you’ve noticed the tension in the air about the new President of the United States. Everyone and their mother has an opinion on the topic and most are not afraid to tell you it.

The wrath though. That’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen in my lifetime. But that’s a topic for another post.

Trying to wade through the abundance of opinion, pontification, falsehood, agenda-driven “alternative facts” and just down right nasty lies has made the job of someone who wants the-facts-and-nothing-but insanely difficult.

The amount of time I spend researching something has escalated, as the truth-tellers have narrowed.

And that’s when it hit me.

I have to some degree become an investigative reporter, out of sheer necessity to find the truth.

Well, you do what you gotta do.

“A lie gets halfway around the world before the truth has a chance to get its pants on.”
– Winston Churchill