Hi. My name is Duane Sherrill. I’m new to town, having been born and raised south of the border. Actually, immediately south of the border since I live down in Warren County where I’ve worked as crime and courts reporter for the Southern Standard, our sister paper, for the past 28 years.

Anyway, I’m your news guy here for a while. How long? I haven’t a clue. It could be two weeks or two years. Regardless, I’m the new guy here. Despite living just 20 minutes away, it’s a totally different world here in Smithville. Aside from the Walmart, I don’t know where hardly anything is located so it’ll be a major learning curve for the next little bit.

But don’t worry, I’m no slouch at writing. Been doing it since 1990. I’ve actually won state awards for my columns, the last coming when I wrote about my sex change. Yes, I used to be a woman – on paper of course. I guess I should explain, huh?

I was planning to go on a cruise with my family a while back and I was told I had to obtain a passport. So, one of the things you have to have to get a passport is your birth certificate. Like many of you, my birth certificate was packed away in some old chest, dust all over it. After much digging I found it and just happened to take a glance at its face.

“FEMALE!” I yelped as I noticed how it was written. “What the …”

The first thing I did was call my mom. “Hey, this is your daughter calling,” I quipped as I inquired as to how my birth certificate, for over 50 years,  had claimed me to be a female when I’m VERY MUCH a male. Unable to get answers from my mom who was just as surprised about my new diagnosis as a woman, I got on the phone to the state records department.

“It’s just a typo,” they assured me. “Come on up and we’ll take care of it.”

So I walk into their office and hand them the old certificate. The lady behind the glass looks me up and down and chuckles.

“You don’t look much like a girl,” she smirked. “Wait here and I’ll get somebody.”

A minute later a woman comes out and motions me toward a side room. I reluctantly go in. What kind of proof were they going to require? I was glad I wore clean shorts at least.

“Sign this,” the woman ordered.

“What’s this?” I wondered, glad I would get to remain clothed.

“It’s your statement, swearing under penalty of law that you’re male,” she responded.

Although not liking that “penalty of law thing”, I signed. Then, two weeks later and $30 lighter for fees I get a certificate in the mail.

However, much to my surprise, it wasn’t anything new. It was my old certificate with a line through the “female” part and “male” typed above it. That’s all I got for $30 bucks. Anyway, my name is Mr. Duane Sherrill. Give me a call if you got news.

Contact Duane Sherrill at news@smithvillereview.com