Some offers a person simply can’t refuse.

When the email inviting me to be part of the What’s Up Yukon team landed, the cadence of Marlon Brando coming down the wire was unmistakable.

The pressure was intense. How could I rush such a decision, to emerge from the indolence of semi-retirement back into the pressure cooker of daily mini-deadlines and weekly maxi-deadlines?

I hemmed, I hawed. I to’d and I fro’d. I made extensive mental lists of the pros and cons. I analyzed the possibilities from every conceivable angle.

For about a nanosecond.

“You betcha,” shouted my email reply. Or words to that effect. I mean, c’mon. It was a no-brainer, right?

How could I pass up the opportunity to work with some of the finest writers, photographers and designers North of 60?

How could I let the chance to help tell the stories of Yukon’s phenomenal assortment of engaged and engaging personalities just slip through my gnarled fingers?

Most of all, how could I turn my back on the teeming millions who turn to What’s Up Yukon every week as their most reliable source of information that’s “All Northern; All Fun”?

So here I am, in my opulent suite on the top floor of Beese Entertainment World Headquarters, gazing with delight at good old Grey Mountain and the meandering splendour of the Yukon River far below.

Beneath the massive rosewood desk, an equally massive pair of sweaty shoes left behind by the paper’s founding editor, Darrell Hookey. And I’m supposed to fill those? Wait a minute; this is scary.

Then came the good news: I ain’t in this alone. The publishers, in their infinite wisdom, decided to make this gig a job-share.

Which means I’ll still have time to pursue the gallery-visiting, play-watching, music-listening, active-recreating, beer-making, barbecuing, star-gazing and other grand adventures at the heart of what makes this paper what it is.

Even better, it means I get to work with, and learn from, a bright and energetic young co-editor named Meg Walker, who operates from good-as-gold Dawson City (but I’ll let her provide her own take on that matter).

So even when my gnarled old head droops onto the keyboard for the afternoon nap that is my birthright as a certified Old Geezer, the slickly-oiled cogs and wheels of the WUY machine will continue to turn.

And what a machine it is. A vast web of cubicles and offices spanning the entire cosmos (OK, maybe just our solar system), electronically linked and filled with eager folks all dedicated to the one immutable goal of providing fresh and lively perspectives on Yukon entertainment, arts, culture and active interests.

Which leaves me a few questions: Where’s the water cooler? How do I turn this thing on? Are you sure you can teach an old dog?

Thanks to some fine and patient mentors (take a bow Elaine, Kathy and Omaar, especially), I seem to have made it through the first week.

No doubt, in the weeks to come, I can count on WUY’s wonderful readers to teach me a whole lot more.

Hey, this is the North. And it’s all fun.

As I said, there are some offers a person simply can’t refuse.