Young, jobless (and doing it wrong)

I’m sorry you can’t get jobs, Kristy and Katie. I’m there with you. But I can’t seem to figure out why The New York Times found your story so compelling to blast it out into cyberspace on the front page of the Web site.

In a three-page story with video and multiple pictures, 24-year-old twins and Rutgers journalism grads Kristy and Katie talk about how they’ve be jobless in NYC for 17 months. I can’t feel sorry for them. They walk dogs, babysit, bartend and play the sax on the street, but something other than the “Great Recession” seems to be keeping them jobless.

Harvard of the South

So, I’ve been really surprised to have people in both my D.C. housing and job search tell me Ole Miss is a good school. Are you confusing us with our football ranking, perhaps? One guy even thought we were larger than Chapel Hill, N.C. We did make No. 1 party school, according to The Princeton Review’s super scientific college comparison survey. Sure, we got the first presidential debate. I’ve seen some important people speak like E.O. Wilson, the king of Jordan and Colin Powell, but we paid them.

Our former (outlawed) mascot, Colonel Rebel.

Essentially, being a good school is due, in part, to having your name out there. Ours is! I just saw us in a preview for The Blind Side. Clearly, our former chancellor Robert Khayat knew that non-racism-related attention of any sort would bolster our image. I had my doubts as to whether hosting a presidential debate could really change our reputation for being a conservative hotbed of good ol’ boy politics, where the “last battle of the Civil War” engulfed our campus in 1962, and the confederate flag has only been off our field since the late ’90s. But it’s true. People know us, and for once it’s for mostly positive reasons. Someday, I pray, we’ll be known for our academics and journalism school.

So many mistakes – the mystery of copy flow

For so many people out there, the news and the newspaper is a huge mystery. But these people are quick to make accusations, talk about bias, and crucify even hardworking community reporters. I mention that I redesigned a copy desk, and to them I might as well have said I spent a year studying earwigs. What, reporters are people too? We’re not machines bent on pushing the liberal agenda? Heaven forbid we make mistakes and our copy editors make mistakes and our copy chiefs make mistakes and our desk editors make mistakes!

I read this piece a bit late (came out Aug. 1 after Walter Cronkite’s death), but it’s highly enlightening for those of us less knowledgeable about how so many mistakes end up in the newspaper, even the newspaper, The New York Times:

The Public Editor – How Did This Happen?

THE TIMES published an especially embarrassing correction on July 22, fixing seven errors in a single article — an appraisal of Walter Cronkite, the CBS anchorman famed for his meticulous reporting. The newspaper had wrong dates for historic events; gave incorrect information about Cronkite’s work, his colleagues and his program’s ratings; misstated the name of a news agency, and misspelled the name of a satellite.

Crazy French press laws

Sometimes I feel sheepish for leaving The DM. I could have just silently hung around, getting published but having my articles maimed and my pay cut probably to nothing.

But tonight in doing a little French press research, I found some interesting laws. French journalists have to have balls first and foremost. The government can prosecute you for nearly anything they want in a criminal suit. Libel is your burden of proof and on top of that you have to prove good faith by providing four examples of how you’re a fair and upstanding journalist. So, basically the French are just hella insane. Or they were. This book was published in 1980.

Check out this law:

Third world, here I come

A lot of young journalists will tell you they want to be the next Hunter S. Thompson.  What they really mean is that they went to be belligerent drunks who mysteriously string together coherent and profound sentences and celebrate with acid trips.

But while talking with my father the other day, he said third world newspapers were really beginning to take off.  While, in this country, reporters keep being fired en masse.  Last week it was McClatchy cutting jobs in the thousand range.  This week Reuters is moving its financial journalists to India.

So I was thinking, why not go third world?  It’d be fun, and it’d be very Hunter S. Thompson-esque.  Hopefully these third world papers are mostly written in English.  But, I’d be willing to bet a lot of reporters would never consider moving to the third world. It’s dirty, hot, crime-filled and corrupt.  It’s also beautiful and easy to get by on next to nothing.  Is this just a dumb idea?  Too good to be true?

The newspaper’s mission

Finally, I have something to say related to newsroom ethics.

What is the point of the newspaper? Who owns the newspaper and its message?

I watch student newspapers. I technically still work for one. And I’m intrigued. The kids are either slamming the institution hard, ignoring it completely or in rare cases embracing it and doing a little lip service.

Newspapers are supposed to be this great agent of public information. We find out what matters and deliver it. Good, bad, happy, sad. Sometimes scandals must be unearthed and dirty laundry aired for the public good. As Scripps aspires, we are giving the light for the people to find their way.

Recently, I’ve watched an editor announce that the paper wants to make its community look better. In a sense, that’s a good message. We don’t want the world thinking we’re dirt. But at the same time, does that mean the community will suffer when the paper refuses to print “nasty” things about a persistent racism problem, an affluent and apathetic populace, corrupt government and the like?

I’m curious to see how this will pan out. Can a newspaper maintain its integrity as a watchdog when becoming wholly involved in this community-loving blowout to the point of its leaders leading the organizations doling out said love? Can they remain a newspaper (and not a PR ad or newsletter) especially after declaring their mission? Is there time (between class, newspaper and life) to insert one person’s agenda into all coverage? Is it even a concern when beleaguered with news-less days and double quotes sneaking into headlines?

Is this based on a professional model?

As a disclaimer: Yes, my blog is (supposed to be) about journalism. I do not represent the views of any organization, although I occasionally contribute to many. I remain independent from the editorial staffs of the papers I critique. You might end up in my thesis.

Daddy, can I have an albino leg for my birthday?

In Tanzania, they’re killing albinos because of the supposed magical quality of their skin. An albino woman was “hacked to death” after others gouged out her eyes, breasts, etc. A young girl had both legs sawed off.

This is the most insane thing I’ve ever heard of. And it’s so sad. The albinos can’t afford sunscreen, and their neighbors don’t need it because they’re super duper black and don’t get that sunburnt.

I understand (maybe) hunting albino crocodiles or something, but people? This is like Hitler making lampshades from people who had a lot of neat tattoos.

I miss food writing

I sort of miss being forced to read the nytimes food page every week too.

But, this has me in stitches: Peter Meehan’s review of national ball park food.

Funachos. There’s nothing fun or nacho-like about this gloopy pile of flavorless chips, processed liquid cheese and jalapenos from a can.

The pretzel dog, available at several stands. Imagine stuffing a cold, oversalted hot dog into a cardboard tube, then rolling that inside shoe leather.

Is mushy pulled-pork any way to honor Goman Thomas, one of the greatest sluggers in Brewers history? Maybe the Stormin’ Goman sandwich is the team’s way of getting him back for all those strikeouts.

The Friar Frank, the stadium’s signature plain dog, was bland and weirdly wrinkled, as if it had been sitting in a bathtub too long. The sesame-seed bun was stale, too.

So honest, reminds me of something my mother would say in a food review.

Who blogs anyway?

This is something every blog needs to address. You usually address it up front. I’m bored and I have three kids I’m avoiding by blogging. I’m so obsessed with food that I get paid to write this blog. I blog because I want to see the end of scam artist lawyers.

Not me, not really. I used to blog about my personal life, but then it got personal, and that turned out poorly. You can’t put your diary online. Although, it’s fun to have a place where you friends can check on you.

I started this blog because I felt like I had to. I felt I had something important to say. I still do feel that way, sometimes, but I’ve realized this will never be a successful blog or one real (non-friend or facebook stalker) people come to on a regular basis.

Who blogs anyway? Old retirees who have time for it is who. Bored housewives. People being paid. So why is it that my industry requires (strongly suggests) I blog? I don’t have a lot to say that’s not the lowdown of what I drank last night. I’d rather be reading a good book or enjoying the outdoors than being cooped up inside writing a … blog people aren’t going to read. I’d much rather spend my time getting paid for what I write. Isn’t journalism all about that too? And, I don’t have time to read other blogs. Who I am is not what I read on blogs. I can’t check 50 blogs a day, much less the seven of my closest friends.

So blog advisees, make me. I will anyway though because I’m scared shitless that I won’t get a job because I don’t blog. What a stupid thought.

Journalism betrayal

So what is one to do?

To be in this profession you have to clearly draw a line between personal and professional. Some people just don’t get it. They don’t get that your personal life is off the record. The little insider quips you deliver at parties or even hanging out in the newsroom are not to be passed on to every hungry blogger or starving writer.

And then it happens. Indirectly, you’re part of the life-crushing engine. You’re part of it every day, but sometimes it’s just personal. Sometimes you don’t have to be part of every story. As a journalist, I feel that I’m allowed to have allies. There was no way I was going to have anything to do with this particular story, but now I feel like I’ve betrayed a close friend when I said I wouldn’t.

And if you think about it, you’ve got those inside interests too. Would you tell the rival paper about the photo editor’s DUI? Not that they’d care, but would you? Is that a nice thing to do? Just because we practice journalism, doesn’t mean we have to sell out everyone. We choose what to cover knowing our biases and our conflicts, passing on the other stuff to somebody else. And at what cost does all this come? Is it OK to sell out a best friend so some blogger you have never met and who does not care about you will mention your screen name on her blog?

I’m just ashamed to have given a friend my vote of confidence to later have myself indirectly associated with the story. Ashamed and humiliated. Good, bloodthirsty reporting.

Listening: iPod on Shuffle (is love – “Wannabe” – Spice Girls, “Nineteen” Tegan and Sara)
Assignments: worrying about cultural tourism/como/blues/food story