Q: Mr. Federal Way, I was aghast at reading the Mirror’s story online about the $95,000 piano that is sitting in City Hall. Why is this already purchased when the Performing Arts and Events Center won’t even open for a couple of years?

A: Mr. Federal Way wondered how long it would be before this question crossed my conference-room sized desk. Congratulations, you win the prize. Mr. Federal Way has nothing to give, but you win.

However, I did like the nicely scented envelope with the red hearts drawn on it. That was an extremely nice touch. But, Mr. Federal Way was left wondering if you’re coming on to me. With my chiseled, made for Hollywood mug, $1,000 Armani suits and recently refurbished Winnebago, it’s easy to see why not, but then Mrs. Federal Way started snoring, I awoke, and realized that was all a dream, kind of like me winning the Powerball. More on that later. So yes, it’s true. What the F-flat is going on here? Mr. Federal Way is not sure what is more disturbing: that we actually purchased this piano before the laborers started churning dirt, that one could actually spend $95,000 on a musical instrument in the first-place or that we bought a used instrument for 95 large. Mr. Federal Way is getting a feel for how the well-heeled aristocrats live.

Something like: “Oh, old chap, just put that used piece over there in the small foyer so that no one will see it. It’s only here because the warehouse is going out of business and our grand entrance chapel is not yet complete. We couldn’t possibly have our guests view that when they arrive. We’re simply not that low-class.”

Apparently the elected officials at City Hall believe in the golden rule. He who has the gold, rules. Congratulations fellow commoners, you are now proud part-owners of a used piano. Go see it in the corner of City Hall where the old coffee machine was. Touch it, and kiss it before it is paraded out in all its grand pageantry. This is as close to it as you will ever get. Moreover, Mr. Federal Way thinks some new rules could be made on a purchase like this. Well, Mrs. Federal Way, I purchased a used Corvette. Who cares that I don’t have the garage built for it yet. The place was going out of business. I had to buy it. Mr. Federal Way knows I’d be singing a high C soprano note after Mrs. Federal Way got done with me. But, you can do your part and march on over to the mayor’s office and yell and scream. His office is past the piano, up the stairs, on the left. And use your low bass voice. That will scare the F-flat out of him. Bring your sixpence with you. He’ll be needing your tax payment up front. Or, better yet, you could sponsor the piano for 100 large. That sponsorship has yet to be sold and Mr. Federal Way is shocked. What better way to spend your kid’s inheritance than for a sponsorship of a used piece of furniture?

Q: Mr. Federal Way, did you try and win the Powerball.

A: Your darn right I did. Mr. Federal Way doesn’t subscribe to the fact that the lottery is simply a tax on people bad at math. Somebody has to win. Might as well be yours truly. Frankly, I’m shocked I am still here. I thought I had that one in the bag. Now what? The Winnebago needs new wheels and I just spent my last sixpence at City Hall.

Q: Mr. Federal Way, I think I saw you having lunch with the mayor last week at Jimmy Macs. It seemed half the city’s staff was there too. Name and address withheld because you likely saw me there.

A: Mr. Federal Way is not sure if there is a question here. Wasn’t me. Mr. Federal Way lives on a columnist’s salary and can’t afford to go out to eat. I snooped in the publisher’s office and looked at his computer – security is real tight around here – he leaves it on all of the time – genius. It was determined that was him. That said, Mr. Federal Way would have loved to have been there for that conversation. Those two have the sensitivity of a concrete block. Anyhow, all right, time to fess up. Mr. Federal Way knew it was the publisher that met the mayor. I overheard the mayor call the front desk saying he was running late and the publisher came back and drilled yours truly for some comments Mr. Federal Way might have made up about the mayor’s wife. Hey, nobody’s perfect. And I have my wife’s permission to say so. Apparently, the mayor doesn’t.

Q: Mr. Federal Way, what did you think of the Mirror’s new diversity section?

A: It was interesting. I thought I had problems until I read about a person that doesn’t even know what sex they are. My standard answer to any question about sex is “yes, please.” This takes it to a whole new level. It will be interesting to see where it goes next. I’ll tell you what I didn’t like. Greg Baruso had more wishy-washy sentences than my washing machine has cycles. He promised to tell what diversity was, then not, then he would in the next article. Take a stand already especially since he is on the Diversity Commission. One might think, oh, I don’t know, that if you’re on the Diversity Commission, you might already have a little clue as to what this is all about. Here’s Mr. Federal Way’s take on diversity. All everyone talks about is the race problems we have and have always had. Last time I checked we all belong to the human race. How can you have a race problem when there is only one race? There problem solved. That wasn’t so hard. I think we are making mountains out of molehills. Kind of like Mrs. Federal Way’s boobs.

Q: Mr. Federal Way, what is it like to work at a newspaper?

A: That’s the $20,000 question isn’t it? Maybe more like the $95,000 question. Mr. Federal Way’s comments are certainly worth more than a used Steinway. It’s different yet the same. Wait, I’m beginning to sound like Baruso. Sorry. You do newspapers for the love of the game, not the pay. This has always been the case. Most of the money stops at the publisher’s level and based on how he dresses, he’s not raking it in either. Newspapers are in business to watch the public’s money and inform them of what is occurring in their community. I’m here to tell you about everything else and add some flair to the writing otherwise you would be asleep by page two and in a coma by the time you hit the classifieds.

A reporter’s job is to be so balanced that the public can’t determine an angle to a story. The Mirror’s reporters are very good at this. To the publisher’s credit, he harps on this with the editorial team all of the time and I generally sit there and pick my fingernails as this clearly doesn’t apply to me. This is essential now more than ever due to the Internet. What once was an industry controlled by trained, college-degreed journalists, is now open to any half-wit with a bag of Doritos, sitting in his underwear looking at a computer screen. They write “news” based on how they see it, not based on reality. Don’t believe me? Consider this fact. History is written by the winners. Think about it. The winners destroyed the losers so only the winner’s story gets told. It is written down and time moves on. Then in comes a group of people that are hell bent on making sure that both sides are represented and the history books start regressing to the mean – in this case the more accurate truth. A comb-over, soda-filled blogger has no concept of this; only that his words are read so that he gets more hits and more advertising to perpetuate more Doritos and soda. As the civilization advances, it gets harder to distinguish what is accurate and what is not.

Mr. Federal Way only hopes that in a century or two from now, that the little one-eyed, antennae sprouting green aliens don’t pick up a copy of the Onion. They’ll wonder what in the name of Uranus is going on down here. The other side of newspapers is the money. You think the publisher harps on the news team, he rides the advertising team like a $20 prostitute on dollar night. Controlling this group is like herding cats. Actually more like mountain lions. They are stealthy and can eat you. Having said that, they do a great job and make the newspaper profitable. This is paramount as it gives Mr. Federal Way a vehicle to combat Dorito man. Mr. Federal Way has worked at a number of newspapers and the Mirror is one of the better ones. It is a good community newspaper that writes features, hard hitting news, satire, good sports and adequate business. It has been a good ride so far. I’m employed, and my meager 401-k grows at glacial speed. What’s not to like?

Q: Mr. Federal Way, surely you can’t be real. You’re kind of old-school in your thinking aren’t you?

A: None of your business. And don’t call me Shirley.

Got a question for Mr. Federal Way? Email mrfederalway@federalwaymirror.com