The Fixer

In the early hours of this morning, as I was searching through our still dark apartment for the squishy football my daughter needed for her school music project (don't even ask, that's a whole post unto itself), I was reminded of a woman I worked with at ABC for years, who I always considered "the fixer." It was not any sort of untoward "fixing." It was simply that if there were any sort of problem or crisis, she was the one who could fix it. Whether it was a writing inconsistency (she knew stories and characters inside and out), or an editing snafu (she had her hand in all the parts of post production), or just a coworker's need to leave work in time to make a doctor's appointment or school play, she was on the case.
 
As I have ventured from place to place in my freelance life, I have come to realize how truly rare this was. In most places, people have fairly defined job descriptions. Their ability to jump in and fix a crisis (much less avert a series of others) has boundaries. The "fixer" I knew worried more about solutions than about boundaries. There never really seemed to be any thought in her mind that a problem couldn't be solved, and because of her, I edited better shows, had the clips I needed to play back in the studio, and was there for many, many of my children's milestone moments.
 
This morning, as I was on my hands and knees with a flashlight, searching for that football, I wished I had my friend, "the fixer" searching with me. I would have been a lot more confident that I'd find it. We all could probably use a "fixer" in every aspect of our lives, but few of us are lucky enough to have one, even for a short time.
 
When my daughter got up for school, the football was sitting on the breakfast table waiting for her, as if there had never been any doubt that it would be found.
 
I guess maybe along the way, probably out of necessity, I've learned a little--or a lot--about being a "fixer" myself.