This Just In...

The first rule of breaking news, in my experience, is that your cellphone will be low on juice when the call comes in. I've been the proud carrier of a dying cellphone during a news event not once, not twice, but at least five times. Number five, was New Year's Eve afternoon. I had just plugged in my phone to charge, after an afternoon walk with Parker. I sat down to record my edited story, and the phone rang.

It was Andrew with the first details: a possible bank robbery at Wells Fargo and a rumored bomb threat in downtown Aspen. I wondered if I should continue recording or jump in the car. Then Marci called.

"I think you should come up here, this seems like it's kind of a big deal. They've blocked off parts of downtown."

In Toronto, that might mean a parade. In Aspen, it means the world is about to get knocked off kilter.

On the afternoon of New Year's Eve, four packages wrapped in Christmas paper shut down the city of Aspen. Restaurants were closed, locals and tourists were evacuated from downtown. Officers on every corner spoke sternly to redirect anyone who came too close.

I love breaking news. It's my favorite kind of coverage -- the rush of getting information, watching things develop, and of course, being on the radio.

It's easy to get hooked. You forget you're tired, you forget you haven't eaten in hours, you forget what time it is. You breathe the news.

The first time it happened to me, I was in Halifax, reporting from a march in protest of the Atlantica trade conference. One minute, everyone was marching peacefully. The next, paint-filled lightbulbs were flying and I saw a Taser in use for the first time.

In Toronto, I had a few exciting moments. A tire fire in the East end of the city, a development in the terror trial, and a building collapse on the Danforth.

The bomb threat was the second big event since I've lived in Colorado -- the wildfire in April left me sooty and tired for days. And I guess you might even count the election, although we did get the luxury of planning ahead for that.

It always feels good to turn clips and voicers and call in live hits. Your work is focused, quick, efficient. Your writing is tighter than normal, spare, just the facts and figures.

Hours later, after your emotions tank, and the fatigue sets in, and the clock ticks toward dawn, you can crawl into bed knowing that you've risen to the occasion, reminded of all that you are capable of doing. Which, incidentally, is a nice way to start a new year.

A Promising Start to the New Year

Your Week Ahead: Will you still be counting the cost of Christmas by the time we get round to next December? Is it not just the financial picture that you don't like the look of? Over the holiday, did a key part of your life alter forever? Are you now less than inspired about a return to whatever passes for normality in your neck of the woods? Well, then, be motivated by whatever is making you mad. The chimes of Big Ben may have faded away - but it is not too late to rewrite your New Year resolution. Change it so that instead of focusing on what you don't want, can't stand or have had enough of, it pivots around a positive plan. You need and deserve to be excited about the future.

From Jonathan Cainer's Bubble.com