I was a journalist, humor columnist, writer and editor at Siuslaw News for 23 years. The next chapter in my own writer’s journey is helping other writers prepare their manuscript for the road ahead. I'm married to the perfect woman, have four great kids, and a tenuous grip on my sanity...
Standing next to our journalistic Mecca and… HEY, is Ronald Reagan smelling my hair?!? We interrupt our month-long retrospect of The Door in our newsroom to bring you this breaking news: At this moment, a new piece of journalistic history is being added to our newsroom door with the kind of fanfare you’d expect when someone is using Scotch tape. That’s right, for only the 112th time in the 40-year history of our door (ask Brian Willaims, he was there), we are inducting a new exhibit piece to what Barbara Walters has called “A journawistic tweasure.”
For those who aren’t familiar with the historic relevancy of The Door, it is home to a collection of newspaper faux pas that have been pasted, glued, taped, licked-and-stuck, or otherwise adhered there by reporters at Siuslaw News since the 1970s. It is a shrine, of sorts, celebrating the kind of journalistic shame, blame and brilliance that can only arise through a well-timed typo, missplelledmispleled a word spelled wrong or, in some cases, chosen specifically for its double entendre.
That brings us to today’s historic addition to The Door, which I’m pretty sure was simply the result of unintentional double entendre thanks to poor word choice. Or possibly a drunken proof reader. Whatever the reason, we are thankful and happy to include it on The Door for posterity — which is especially fitting when you consider there is a commode on the other side. Continue reading This just in: New headline failure inducted on our newsroom door
(It’s my turn over at Long Awkward Pause today, which seemed like a good a time to thank to Clarence Birdseye for freezing foods that traumatized me as a child…)
It’s been more than 80 years since Clarence Birdseye, inspired by ancient food preservation methods used by Arctic Eskimos, made history by introducing the very first frozen food option: “Savory Caribou on a Stick.” Though his first selection was met with little enthusiasm, Birdseye persisted and eventually created a line of frozen vegetables that many of us are still gagging on today.
I, for one, am still unable to walk past lima beans in the frozen food section without getting the dry heaves. This reaction stems from my childhood, and a spoonful of lima beans I’ve been trying to swallow since 1973.
Unless you’ve been hermetically sealed and stuck in a freezer, you already know March is “National Frozen Food Month.” Coincidentally, I should mention this happens to fall in the same month as “National Ear Muff Day,” “Extraterrestrial Abduction Day” and “National Pig Day,” meaning that, for anyone whose pig happened to be wearing ear muffs at the time it was flash frozen by alien abductors, this is a big month for you. (More at Long Awkward Pause…)
If you’re a student or educator, you are probably getting excited about the approach of SPRING BREAK! Wee-HOO! For students of all ages it means a week of crazy fun with little or no responsibility, whether you’re a fifth-grader planning a Spongebob Squarepants marathon to Bikini Bottom, or a college student planning a bikini bottom marathon of a different kind. If you’re an educator, it means a student-free week away from grading papers with so much red ink your desk resembles a sacrificial altar. Seriously, are they learning NOTHING between Tweets in class?!?
Even Congress gets what is referred to as “recess.” Let’s be honest: If I performed as poorly at my job as they have, I would get what is referred to as “fired.”
That being said, for the rest of us, spring break holds about as much anticipation as trash day or a release date for “Frozen 2.”
This is particularly true for those of us with teenagers at home, many of whom will openly mock us each day by selfishly sleeping in. Then, in an added display of thoughtlessness, they will still be in their pajamas and deciding on breakfast when we come home for lunch! The audacity! Especially since they misspelled “audacity” on their last quiz! Continue reading Congress gets recess, our kids get spring break — What about US?!
Ned Hickson photo/Siuslaw News Walking through my town’s small baseball park the other morning, I was struck by a bit of nostalgia. This was unexpected, considering what I’m usually struck by when the Cedar Company bird squadron begins its morning maneuvers. With spring approaching, first-year tee-ballers were scattered around the field with their fathers, who were imparting basic hitting and fielding fundamentals, baserunning technique, and clarifying that running home didn’t mean crossing the highway alone.
Watching this, I was reminded of working with my oldest daughter in preparation for her first season of tee-ball fiveeightten not long ago. As you’d expect, we bought a mitt, ball, practice tee and all the equipment necessary to get started on the basics. For obvious reasons, I saw no need to purchase an athletic cup — until I decided to advise her about batting stance, at which point it became obvious that I should have.
That advice seems pretty straight forward. The kind of obvious straight forwardness that carries you with complete confidence toe-first into a brick. Like most advice we’re given, the wisdom behind it is simple; the problem comes in the execution.
And while there are countless books out there offering tips on everything from how to get inspired and avoid writer’s block to the kinds of foods that promote creative thinking (which, judging from what I read, you will be doing mostly while on the commode), all of those books essentially come down to one universal truth:
Nothing promotes and stimulates writing better than…
You guessed it:
Excessive drinking.
But let’s suppose you don’t want to become an alcoholic? Does that mean you’re not truly committed to being a writer? Could it jeopardize your dream of becoming a novelist, columnist, short story writer or inner city tagger? Continue reading Forget that image of Bruce Jenner and start writing!
Some of you may already be paticipating in the annual celebration of spring break. And by “participating” I mean coming home from work at lunch to find your teen still in pajamas eating Pop-Tarts straight out of the box while playing Call of Duty or streaming Supernatural reruns.
Being a parent, you will smile and playfully tousle their hair. You’ll ask them if they’re enjoying their much-needed vacation from another hard month of schooling. They will grunt in response, causing you to chuckle as you walk to the kitchen, open the refrigerator, and find nothing but a chilled cantaloup rind.
“You must’ve worked up an appetite,” you’ll say, though what you’re really thinking is:
Between early-release days, in-service days and holidays, my kids spent a total of nine days in actual SCHOOL last month! How is this even FAIR! I hate you! I hate everyone!
I know I said the month-long retrospective of The Door in our newsroom was only going to last through February, but the PEOPLE HAVE SPOKEN! Plus, the people sent donuts. And one threat of bodily harm if I didn’t keep The Door open for a other month. You know who you are. (But in case you don’t, it was Paul, Judy, Susan, John, Gibber and about dozen others who made it clear they wanted The Door to remain open for a while longer.) Who am I to argue? At least until I finish these delicious donuts…
The Door: Guardian of historic journalism; protector of commode privacy…
It appears Keith Morrison has given up pursuing an exclusive on The Door (of Shame, Blame and Brilliance) here in our newsroom. There were no creepy messages from him on my voicemail this morning and, after throwing his back out lifting a water jug, he is no longer posing as an Arrowhead Springs water delivery guy in order to gain access. In addition, we’ve stopped jumping whenever the fax machine goes off now that Morley Safer has stopped sending booty faxes with the warning You Will Crack! written on them.
Yes, things are quiet here; the calm before the storm.
I say that because today’s post will likely put me in the crosshairs of one of the most powerful men this country has ever purposely been made to forget about. In fact, his systematic disappearance after leaving the White House was so complete that I can’t even remember where I was going with this…
Wait! I remember, thanks to this newspaper clipping, which illustrates the importance of The Door, and why journalistic icon Geraldo Rivera has called it “The Al Capone’s Vault of journalistic treasures. No really, I MEAN it this time!” and why rearviewed… oops, I mean revered… journalist Anderson Cooper has referred to The Door as “A revealing look at journalism, depending on who comes out of the commode.” Continue reading That time Dick Cheney wanted to blow up our newsroom door
As some of you may remember, I made a New Year’s resolution to quit drinking coffee back in January. Though I gave what I feel was a strong effort, my love of coffee eventually won out following the most challenging four hours of my life. So instead of denying myself the pleasure I decided to fully embrace my coffee!
Unless I’m driving.
In fact, I wanted to take it a step further by expanding my caffeinated horizons and exploring what the world of coffee has to offer!
A while back, I talked about three of the most important tools a writer wields when it comes to establishing their “voice.” Does anyone remember what they were?
For the sake of time, let’s just assume all of you remember what those tools were and, in a series of uncontrollable outbursts, begin shouting out:
TIMING!
TRUTHFULNESS!
and…
CUERVO!
No, the third tool is RELATIVITY — not Cuervo. Even though I think we can all agree Cuervo does have a way of making even the most abstract things seem relevant.
In this case, however, Relativity means ensuring the reader can relate to what we’re writing about. This is especially true when it comes to personal experience and family anecdotes. For example, that hilarious story about how Aunt Frida got mad and stomped through the garden won’t be nearly as entertaining to readers as it is to you unless, like you, they already know Aunt Frida was a mule. I realize that’s an overstatement, but unless you take time to lay the foundation of your story in a way that involves the reader, they will likely sit down and refuse to follow. Continue reading Writing tools for thought (or food for your tool box?)
I actually had an entirely different post planned for today. But when a journalist gets wind of breaking news it takes precident over everything else because no one wants to be the last one to break that wind. Given that this story also involves coffee, I naturally put everything else aside — except for my actual coffee — to pursue a story that took me all the way to the “Golden Triangle” in Asia.
On Google, anyway.
Our newsroom budget could only get me as far as a “Golden Corral” in Arcadia.
Still, what I discovered was the latest development in man’s desire to create the most expensive cup of coffee on the planet. Possibly in the solar system, depending on what aliens serve as their in-flight beverage — although I’m willing to bet it won’t be as disturbing as Black Ivory coffee. I’ll give you the full details in Monday’s upcoming post. However, I will tell you it’s only a matter of time before your local zoo begins offering coffee next to the elephant cages.
In the meantime, here’s an audio preview of this Monday’s post:
No Butts About It, Coffee Choices Are Getting Really Weird