Twelve years into this column-writing gig, I'm happy to report it hasn't gotten boring yet -- at least not on my end.

As word circulates about buyouts and restructuring at the Post-Gazette -- and across the national newspaper landscape -- some readers have been kind enough to inquire about my fate.

A few will call directly and ask in a slightly quivering voice if I have plans to "stick around."

I try to reassure them as quickly as possible that I have no plans to move along. I also remind them that the folks who run this paper reserve the right to adjust my thinking on that front at any time.

This answer is usually met with either an ambiguous sigh or embarrassed laughter.

There are times when it's easy to wonder about the sincerity of the question, especially when it is followed by throat clearing and an abrupt click. The buzz of the dial tone is usually the giveaway that I have disappointed yet another reader.

It's true that the number of racist phone calls has diminished in recent months. There was a time when so many of these calls piled up, I would have to tap the delete command like I was transmitting Morse Code just to get through my voice mail on a Monday morning.

The 2008 Pennsylvania primary brought out the worst in many of my callers and e-mailers.

As far as I'm concerned, U.S. Rep. John Murtha knew exactly what he was talking about.

I used to hear from racist Democrats all the time. I still get snail mail from a lot of those creeps, though the ones with handwriting I recognize usually end up in landfills unopened and unread.

Even the once-ubiquitous racist phone calls made at 5 a.m. when I couldn't possibly be at my desk to answer the phone have dwindled to one hateful old dude a week.

This odd man may actually be a woman with estrogen-depletion problems, now that I think about it. He or she calls once a week to sputter incoherently in a smoking-ravaged voice about some perceived slight to white people in my column.

I usually spike the caller's messages after a few seconds. The drift of the rants rarely change, though I listened to one message in its entirety earlier this year as the caller confessed to having "black nephews and nieces" as a justification for his hateful tirades.

One time, the same caller apologized for leaving abusive messages on my phone for years. He blamed his erratic behavior on not taking his prescribed medication. It was an apology that bordered on the heartfelt. I didn't hear from him again for a while.

When I started writing columns about the Obama campaign, the caller promptly went off his meds and began calling before dawn to read me race riot act, again.

Once Mr. Obama got elected, you could almost hear the caller deflating under the weight of historical inevitability. If he weren't such a miserable human being, I'd feel sorry for him -- or her.

The election outcome seems to have taken a lot of the bile out of some of my most vituperative critics. I'm not sure why this is, though I'm relieved that a certain big-mouth local talk-show host has been shown the door at KDKA-AM recently.

There was always a spike in nasty calls to my voice mail whenever he attacked one of my columns. I used to marvel at his producer's occasional attempts to get me to go on the show with this bore, as if he didn't have a history of attacking me.

"Did you hear [fired talk show host] go after you on KDKA again today?" James, the meat cutter at Edgewood Giant Eagle, asked me just last month. Of course, I hadn't. You would have to pay me to listen to such idiocy.

Then it occurred to me: I had never actually heard the guy's voice on the radio, and he was one of my most prominent critics. Now that he's gone, I'll never get the chance. I guess I'll have to add that to my ever lengthening list of life's regrets.

Isn't it just like a columnist to fixate on the low points?

The truth is that I get far more supportive letters and phone calls from readers than the hateful stuff.

At the risk of having a profound moment, I have to say what an honor it is to write this column -- and that it's an honor to be read. Merry Christmas. Happy Holidays. Let's keep this party going in 2009.