Whispering thighs

That's what we irreverently called one of the best writers and editors by whom I have ever had the pleasure of being red-penciled.  She was one of the first females to storm the male bastion of the Toronto Press Club and she was as tough as she was permitted to be in the sixties.  But buddy, she got into the Men's Press Club!   

Her name was "Jean Portugal" and she was my mentor/editor at Maclean-Hunter when I was privileged to have worked there in the early seventies.  Mrs. Portugal ruled our editorial office, where we newcomers worked for any and every publication that needed a quick article or book review.  I actually thought I was a decent writer.  Boy, was I wrong.  Mrs. Portugal taught me everything I now know -- where to stop wandering on, how to eliminate words, how to make a point without needing a run-on sentence.  She was pure magic.  We called her "whispering thighs" because hers were ample.  Not fat, she nonetheless had these majestic thighs.  Weird.  She was pure "fifties" and I eventually became in awe of her expertise.  I would write an article, which I thought pretty good, (see, Jean taught me to eliminate the "was" from that sentence) and would tell me (again, no need for the "she") what was wrong with it.  She was incredible.  She informed me that "more than" was to be used when talking about "things" and "over" was only to be used when describing actually "going over" something.  These distinctions are long-gone in public parlance.  Pity.

I tripped down memory lane about all this with an ancient colleague who also worked under Mrs. Portugal when we met the other day.  He and I started together at M-H, but I kind'a knew he was a better writer than I would ever be.  Eventually, he went on to be a columnist for 'Macleans' and is now a columnist for 'The Globe and Mail' and a published author.  We worked together 44 years ago and I had a drink with him the other day when he and his wife visited Calgary.  What a great meeting it was!  Forty-four years melted away, as we talked about Jean and various other personalities who trained us "back in the day".  "There's no way you are going to visit Calgary and not get together with me," I had written him.  And it happened.  Guess what, he was exactly the same great guy I had known in 1971-72.  I am so proud of him.  

The Internet has a lot going for it.