Wow. Terrible timing or perfect orchestration by police?

Gil Scott-Heron Was Right:
The revolution is definitely not going to be televised












That ought to win them a local Emmy. The only thing it was missing was “A-bidi A-bidi A-bidi… That’s all folks!” and some Looney Tunes outro music…

Addictive website

Talk about short stories, here's a blog by a guy who wanted to write 101 words of fiction five days a week.  Read my one of my favorites and then click the random entry tab.

Again and again.

Excellent advice on protecting credibility

How to Manage Corrections, Clarifications & Retractions

One (correct) response to why the media should not turn over raw tape

I want!

Throwable Panoramic Ball Camera:

We present the Throwable Panoramic Ball Camera which captures a full spherical panorama when thrown into the air. At the peak of its flight, which is determined using an accelerometer, a full panoramic image is captured by 36 mobile phone camera modules.

[Via @Johl; Images courtesy of Jonas Pfeil, CC]

Here we go again

Kansas City Stations Refuse to Share Raw Footage with Investigators in Lisa Irwin Case - TVSpy

A Profound Workday

The 5 Principles of a Profound Workday:

‘Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.’ ~Laozi

Post written by Leo Babauta.

Let us toss out all we know for a moment.

Toss notions of productivity, time management, efficiency, and the bottom line.

Empty our workdays of all we’ve packed them with, and sit still with an empty room.

What should we put in this room? Do we want to spend our limited space on busy-ness, on making money, on quick transactions and calculated meetings?

What if we put into it only that which matters? What if we left everything else out?

We would be left with a workday that was poetry, profoundly beautiful.

(click the link above to read the rest!)

Parenthood

Parenthood.  Funny thing.  This morning on my walk, my iPod on "shuffle," this Enya song came on and I started thinking about a part of the lyrics:

One by one my leaves fall.
One by one my tales are told.

At 54, I'm staring mortality right in the face.  My children, at 29 and 24 years, respectively, no longer need me (except for cash, sometimes).

Jacquelyn Mitchard wrote a book entitled "Deep End of the Ocean" that I read even before it got onto Oprah's hit parade.  And because of that book, I bought another written by her.  "The Rest of Us" is a compilation of her columns and on our recent trip to New Orleans, I re-read it on the plane.

Her description of parenthood goes like this:

"...our sons and daughters are only passing through.  At first, they are of you, born to come to your arms.  Rapidly, they are with you, pausing only long enough for you to dab a few hurried strokes of paint on the canvas they are becoming--they are on their way to belonging to themselves, and then to the world.  If we are lucky, they always will consider our home their harbor, but they are headed out to the open sea, almost from the first."

I still consider the farm six miles north of Wagner, SD my harbor.  But which home, of the many we've had, will my children consider their harbor?  Germantown?  Kansas City?  Somewhere else?

I wonder.

More on the assault of a Milwaukee photojournalist

Your Right to Know: Photojournalist’s arrest is troubling incident

MICHELLE VETTERKIND | president and CEO of Wisconsin Broadcasters Association | Posted: Friday, October 7, 2011 6:00 am
On Sept. 19, Clinton Fillinger was arrested while doing his job — perhaps because he was doing it.
The 68-year-old veteran photojournalist, employed by Milwaukee’s WITI Fox6, was filming a house fire from behind yellow police tape.
A Milwaukee police sergeant approached and ordered Fillinger to move back, “all the way back.” Fillinger’s video appears to show him moving backward as he challenges the order: “If the public is out here, I’m allowed to be out here.”
Read more on Madison.com

This is getting ridiculous

Occupy Wall Street Arrests; Fox 5 Crew and Protesters Hit by Pepper Spray, Batons

Giant.

Steven Jobs on June 12, 2005

"No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.
Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary."

Wah wah wah in the Big Apple.

 This made me laugh:

"If you are not a Yankees or Red Sox fan — and rumor has it, the behemoths have not swallowed everyone — there is nothing quite like watching this two-for-one panic special. And Yankees panic is like no other kind. It’s like watching the guy in the brand-new Mercedes cursing out traffic on the George Washington Bridge with his forehead veins bulging. It’s a personal affront. Why doesn’t this traffic just move aside for us?! Why didn’t we buy better pitchers?! Somehow, it’s all A-Rod’s fault!"

Read more from the NY Times.

How the time do fly.

35 Years Ago Today, Barbara Walters Became the Nation’s Highest Paid Journalist - TVNewser

Stupid move, Bank of America

From an AP story today:

Angela Malerba, who works in public relations in Boston, carries a debit card because she likes to know when she buys something that she has enough in her account to pay for it. But paying $5 a month to use her own money? That's too much.

   So when Bank of America starts charging the fee next year, Malerba figures she'll rely more heavily on her credit card. Or, in a strategy that seems almost quaint in these swipe-and-go times, she may just carry more cash.

   "Paying $60 a year in debit card fees just seems absurd," she says.

   The 38.7 million people who carry Bank of America debit cards will face a similar decision in the latest example of banks raising fees or establishing new ones -- not just for debit cards but for visiting ATMs or talking to a teller.

 Thirty-eight-point-seven million minus me.  And my kids, if I can help it.  And anyone else who will listen.  We, your loyal customers are outraged, BOA.  You underestimated us.  We stuck with you through the TARP.  Through the stories of your terrible decision making about mortgages.  We've endured a minimal return on our savings accounts and (mostly) cheerfully paid more for "free checking"  We trusted you in spite of your mistakes.

But this?  I'm done.  So are many others.

See ya, Bank of America, I'm taking my meager investments elsewhere.  I look forward to walking into the branch office in Kansas City and telling the poor local manager that I'm moving my assets and credit cards elsewhere.  

You can have the big dollar guys who won't pay a cent for the "perk" of using a debit card to access their own money.  Enjoy.

"But I'm a journalist!"

John and I returned from six days in New Orleans Wednesday night.  It was a GREAT conference!  It was the first iteration of a joint partnership between RTDNA and SPJ.  A resounding success.  We also included some meetings with other Scripps managers so I've returned to KC with my brain quite full.

You should start making your plans for the 2012 confab right now.  September 20-22 in Fort Lauderdale.

Something happened at the airport yesterday that was disturbing.  We dragged our bags to the Continental kiosks and proceeded to pay the usury.  I heard a shrill voice at the counter and watched a woman thoroughly berate two airline employees.  She was upset about the baggage fees and believed that she had already paid them.  She apparently did not have the additional $25.  She was told that she had to pay or she would not be allowed to fly. 

"Do you know who I am?" she demanded.  "Do you know what I can do about this?"  She went on to shout that she was a journalist, that she had just finished attending a conference and that, upon her return home, she intended to write a story about her shabby treatment.  She dropped two or three f-bombs.

To their credit, the Continental folks never lost their cool but I almost did.  Journalism isn't to be used as a threat.  I wanted to shake her.

Eventually, she called someone who provided a credit card to pay for the bag and she huffed off.  Next time, I hope she flies Southwest or Jet Blue.  And she has a lot to learn before she's a journalist.

Viewfinder BLUES: Schmuck Alert: Milwaukee's Worst

Thanks to Stu Pittman for this right on blog.

Viewfinder BLUES: Schmuck Alert: Milwaukee's Worst: Since my only visit there was as a drunken sailor, I have fond if fuzzy memories of Milwaukee. Which is why it's such a buzz kill to see a m...

Reno Air Races

Jimmy Leeward's P-51 Mustang just before impact.  Photo courtesy Garret Woodman via Reno-Gazette Journal

I had just gotten home from work Friday when I saw the news about the crash at the Reno Air Races on my Facebook feed.

After calling Carly to make sure she was ok, I spent the next few hours watching the streaming live coverage from three Reno television stations websites, thinking all the while of my experiences covering the races in the 80s.

The Reno Air Races is one of the most well-known and popular annual events in Nevada and it's exactly what it sounds like.  A race in the sky involving different kinds of airplanes.

When I first moved to Reno, I scoffed at the idea of spending money to watch planes fly fast in a circle but after my first visit to Stead Airport (probably carrying the BVU deck for Buddy Frank) my opinion changed.  Perhaps it was Buddy's knowledge of all things aeronautic or maybe it's a genetic appreciation for military flying machines from my dad (an Air Force aircraft mechanic) or maybe my love of going fast (I used to get a lot of speeding tickets) or the more visceral thrill of the danger.

Imagine a car race in the sky, with planes flying wingtip-to-wingtip as low as 50 feet off the sagebrush at speeds sometimes surpassing 500 mph. Pilots follow an oval path, screaming around pylons, with distances and speeds depending on the class of aircraft.  The most exciting were the Unlimiteds.

Probably the most memorable was either 1983 or '84 when one of my co-workers (and for the life of me I cannot recall who) secured us a spot at Pylon 7.  I can't remember which news car we drove to through the desert but it was not a 4WD and should have been.  We parked at least a half mile away and walked in to the pylon which is just a tall telephone pole with a metal barrel at the top.  We set up the camera and waited.  And waited.  And waited.  And then the Unlimited race started.  The first time one of the vintage WWII planes screamed around Number Seven, I dropped to the ground in fear and awe.  The planes are at almost a 90-degree angle to the ground as they round the curve and it felt like I should keep my head down, lest it be ripped off by a wing.  I have no idea how many times we felt the rush which was punctuated immediately by desert silence, the smell of sagebrush seasoned with exhaust and the feeling that we were in the middle of nowhere.  Until another Bearcat or P-51 cut through the quiet in the quest for first place.
I will never forget it.

Jimmy Leeward and all of the pilots were rock stars and I hope the initial reports are true -- about his-decide-in-a-micro-second heroism; steering the doomed craft away from the grandstands to save as many lives as possible.  Godspeed Jimmy Leeward and everyone who perished September 16, 2011.

A tip of the hat.

A flashback and some musing.

This blog was originally posted on October 20, 2004: 

Severe weather kept us all hopping Monday and Tuesday...
I am sure that all of the Memphis news directors...got irate emails from viewers about extensive coverage of the severe storms that passed through our northern counties Monday night. Frankly, I was happy that we weren't a CBS station because CSI has been doing gangbusters at 9pm. I answered every email Tuesday and most of my messages got responses like this:
Sent: Tuesday, October 19, 2004 6:50 PM
To: Phillip, PeggySubject: RE: weather coverage
Thank you for your thoughtful reply. I can certainly understand the interest someone in the affected area would have in keeping "on top" of the situation. However, I also feel that this could be accomplished by one of several methods; the least obtrusive would be to use the scrolling banner across the bottom of the screen or simply "break-in" for brief updates.
Good luck with your Gordian Knot.
I had to look up "Gordian Knot."
...for those of you who want to be news directors or news managers. Answer the email! Answer the telephone calls and return the voice mail messages when a telephone number is available. My message is something like this--Thank you for notifying us of your displeasure with Monday night's severe weather coverage. We strive to provide you with the best possible news and weather information, and when you feel that it fails to meet your expectations, it’s important for us to know.
We’re sorry you missed programming that prompted you to contact us with a complaint, and we regret any inconvenience or frustration that our coverage caused you.
There's more to my email response but you get the idea. Bottom line. TV viewers/customers deserve an explanation about disruptions in regular programming and in some cases, you might learn something...or be reminded of something you forgot.  
And finally, I clipped this from the wire today: WASHINGTON (AP) - In emotional appeals, people whose loved ones died in the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks vouch for President Bush or Democrat John Kerry in new TV ads that try to persuade voters that each would best lead the country in a time of terrorism.

I wonder if/how our lives would be different if John Kerry had become president in 2004.

When your child gets hurt

This was a text that tested my strength.  I got it three days after I decided to go on a "blog vacation."  I had just begun a daily walk as part of the KC Slimdown Challenge so I read this in a sleep-addled fog at about 5:30am on a Monday morning in front of an overscheduled week of work.

Incredibly, I read this text and then continued on my walk.  Along the way, I grew increasingly concerned and then texted my daughter back an hour later.

Then I looked at her Facebook page.

Frantic?  You betcha.  I woke John at 6:30am and headed to work for some 7am meetings.  Meanwhile, he called both hospitals in Reno.  Carly was at Renown, formerly Washoe Med...listed as "Trauma 5."

He talked to her nurse and then a few hours later, I talked to her.  Finally, we both got to talk to Carly after she woke up.

She was camping with friends at Lake Tahoe.  She borrowed an unfamiliar bike to ride on a trail and the brakes didn't work.  She realized she wouldn't make a curve on the road so decided to ditch it in a clearing but wasn't aware of the 8-foot drop off.

The result?  Broken wrist, cracked shoulder, broken ribs, punctured lung.  She was not wearing a helmet so God was watching over her.

I have never felt so helpless.

When your kids are small and they get hurt, you take 'em to the ER and they get fixed.  Been there, done that.

When they are adults what are we supposed to do?