Tag: Culture

At a newspaper, every roll is crucial

(Welcome to Flashback Sunday, when we travel back in time to spotlight a post from the distant past while being extremely careful, of course, not to disturb anything that could change the natural course of history. Not that we’d know either way. Admittedly, the inexplicable success of Justin Bieber could be evidence we’ve failed at least once…)

Behind every great news story is a paper trail.
Behind every great news story is a paper trail.
There are few things that can bring a newspaper to a halt when it is facing a deadline. In fact, aside from a natural catastrophe or a critically important breaking news story (Example: Anything related to Dancing with the Stars), nothing stands in the way of our commitment, as journalists, to ensure that the power of the press continues — unless, of course, the unthinkable happens, and we run out of toilet paper in both employee restrooms.

As professionals, this is a scenario we train for. We know how to recognize a potential “situation” that could leave us vulnerable and without back-up. Yet, as we learned today, all it takes is a momentary lapse in resoluteness for things to escalate into a full-blown crisis.

“Has anyone seen Bill?” (Note: The names in this dramatic re-enactment have been changed to protect the innocent, such as myself, from being physically assaulted by “Bill.”) Continue reading At a newspaper, every roll is crucial

This week’s writing tip likely contains Influenza blowback

image Welcome to this week’s edition of Ned’s Nickel’s on Writing, which is coming to you live from my bed. Wait, it gets sexier. The reason I am writing from bed is because I am a snotty, achey and feverish mess. This is probably why I have received no accolades from Publisher’s Weekly or Writer’s Digest this week, or even from The Master of Horror® Stephen King — which is surprising considering this terrifying subject matter.

Which isn’t to say this week’s NWOW has gone completely unnoticed. The CDC in Atlanta has issued a warning to all readers of this blog to “immediately slather yourselves and this monitor with sanitizer before continuing.” And by “before continuing,” I’m assuming they mean with what you’re reading.

If you’re continuing with anything other than that, I really don’t want to know. Continue reading This week’s writing tip likely contains Influenza blowback

Reasons even a straight man can benefit from watching The Bachelor

image (I had the laps in judgement distinct privilege of being a guest contributor over at Long Awkward Pause today. Here’s an excerpt, along with a link at the bottom. Sorry it’s not the sausage kind…)

Hi.

My name is Ned and I watch The Bachelor.

I’ve been a heterosexual for 17,155 days and counting.

I can see the looks of confusion but that’s okay; I’ve gotten used to it. In fact, I used to hide my Bachelor/Bachelorette watching…

“Hey Ned, how about that Trailblazers game last night?!?”
“Yeah, man! They really dominated the paint!”
“What are you talking about? They LOST!”
“Oh, right. Uh, I got tapped out for a house fire and missed the second half.”
“Was everyone ok?”
“Yeah, but the girls who didn’t get a rose were pretty upset.”
“Wait… what?”

(Read the rest at Long Awkward Pause…)

Winter Olympics preview! (Or 20 reasons to be a summer Olympian)

image As many of you know, every two years I try to convince my editor to send me to the Olympics. The closest I’ve come was during the winter Olympics in Utah, when I was offered gas money, thermal underwear and a set of binoculars for watching the events “from a great spot on the third floor of a car garage not far from the Olympic Pavilion — or thereabouts.”

This year is no different. Especially when you consider the games are taking place in Sochi, Russia, which means there’s no way I’m going to see anything from any car garage in Utah. However, it doesn’t mean we won’t be offering you the same in-depth coverage as the larger media outlets. It’s just that ours won’t include any photographs, scores, statistics, biographies or interviews with Olympians, unless you count Mr. Knowitall, our vending machine repair guy, who won the Brickerville High School “Donkey Basketball Olympics” in 1987. Continue reading Winter Olympics preview! (Or 20 reasons to be a summer Olympian)

World’s smartest (looking) dog praises my book; denies any treats involved

Literary critic Nicholas H. Sheltie personally presents the Distinguished Dookie Award
Literary critic Nicholas H. Sheltie personally presents the Dookie of Distinction Award

As copies of Humor at the Speed of Life continue to wash up arrive on both coasts here in the U.S., as well as in countries generally accessible only by boat, so has praise from some of the literary world’s most respected critics. Among them, Nicholas H. Sheltie, who has awarded HATSOL with the coveted Dookie of Distinction Award after calling it:

“Arfuably the best backyard reading I have encountered since my days at the kennel. Inspirational. Three poos up, way up!

Though the notoriously reclusive Sheltie was unavailable for further comment, his press agent, S. Henry DaFrankmann, said “The Dookie of Distinction Award is so coveted because it is handed out with irregularity.” Continue reading World’s smartest (looking) dog praises my book; denies any treats involved

Online banking: Bringing Zimbabwe and Snakegut, Alabama closer together

(It’s time for this week’s Flashback Sunday, when step into our time-travel machine, buckle up, jettison ourselves into the past, but not before someone realizes they really should’ve used the restroom first…)

Red necks It’s not every day that I receive an email from a Zimbabwean prince who needs help relocating $20 million into an American bank account as soon as possible. In fact, in the last five years, I’ve only received this letter maybe 18 times. In each case, the letter explains that I’ve been chosen because I’m reputed to be a “dependable and trustworthy” person.

Given that this letter is always addressed to Dear Sir or Madam, I can only assume that my reputation is in fact so great that I no longer need an actual name.

Either that, or I’m not the only person to receive this letter.

Each time I’ve gotten this e-mail, I’ve deleted it because, let’s be honest: Who wants to spend time figuring out how to access their online bank account? I have no intention of adding to that headache (or potential jail time) by making a cross-continental transfer of millions of dollars from Zimbabwe.

Besides, having our checking account suddenly jump to over $20 million — I think — would look a little suspicious.

I’m sorry Mr. Hickson, but you don’t have money in your account to cover…Oh, wait a minute. Scratch that. Will this bagel be everything? Continue reading Online banking: Bringing Zimbabwe and Snakegut, Alabama closer together

That time I found Stephen King hiding in our newsroom

"Skippy" the rabid, blindfolded squirrel.
“Skippy” the rabid, blindfolded squirrel.
I know it’s been a while since any of us have seen The Master of Horror© Stephen King, so I’d like to start this week’s edition of The Box by clarifying that IS NOT Stephen King to the left. That’s because…

HE’S RIGHT BEHIND YOU! AAAAAH!

Haha! Just kidding! That’s just “Skippy” the rabid, blindfolded squirrel. WAIT! Not behind you — I mean to the left! Oh man! As you can see, even just talking about the The Master of Horror© Stephen King can put people on edge. So you can imagine my shock finding him among the hundreds of unclaimed and unidentified photos that have been piled into The Box in our newsroom since the 1980s. Regular readers of this weekly feature know I normally dump the contents of The Box onto the floor of our newsroom and randomly choose a photo. This is achieved through a technical four-step selection process:

Step 1) Wait until my fellow reporters are deep in thought (asleep) thinking about important news stories
Step 2) Suddenly and without warning yell “RELEASE THE SQUIRREL!” and let “Skippy” loose in the newsroom.
Step 3) Select the photo closest to the first person who screams.
Step 4) Get yelled at by my editor Continue reading That time I found Stephen King hiding in our newsroom

Were you mesmerized (fell asleep) watching the Golden Globes too?

See how getting "Jiggy" saved the Intoxicated Karaoke Awards?
See how getting “Jiggy” saved the Intoxicated Karaoke Awards?
(A timely excerpt from my book, Humor at the Speed of Life that could single-handedly save awards shows. And by “single-handedly” I mean one-handed clapping…)

As you probably know, we have now entered the annual “awards show” season, which officially began with the Golden Globe Awards, and is due to wrap up some time in April, when David Hasselhoff hosts the coveted Intoxicated Karaoke Performance Awards live from Tijuana, Mexico.

Every year, I watch at least some of these awards shows because, as a columnist, it’s important for me to keep up with cultural trends. I also watch because seeing Nicki Minaj always makes me feel better about the way I dress. However, according to a recent poll, ratings for awards shows have actually dropped. So much so that programming executives are calling it “an alarming trend.”

Personally, I think the word “alarming” is a little strong. Continue reading Were you mesmerized (fell asleep) watching the Golden Globes too?

Setting things straight with the American Chiropractic Association

(Welcome to Flashback Sunday! If you’re here, that means you’ve either (1) stumbled onto this blog completely by accident (so relax, you have an excuse), 2) You’re here for the first time because someone recommended it (a good excuse to find new friends), or 3) You’re a regular reader of this blog (for which there is no excuse). Whatever the reason, thanks for joining us for this week’s flashback, which is my excuse to pull something out of the archives you probably missed (But I’m sure you had a good excuse…)

Slouchere We all make mistakes. The difference is, when you make one, you probably don’t get contacted by someone from the American Chiropractic Association in Arlington, Virginia.

Or maybe you do.

In which case you may want to consider leaving this blog right now and going in for an adjustment.

But unless you mistakenly informed readers that last month was National Correct Posture Month when, in fact, we’re all free to slouch until May, I’m guessing you’ve never gotten an email from Angela Kargus, Communications and Public Relations Manager for the ACA.

There are two things I know about Angela:

1) She is very nice.
2) She probably has excellent posture.

I also know she read my column a couple of weeks ago. As Angela pointed out, it proclaimed “National Correct Posture Month” in the wrong month and also provided recommendations on how to avoid slouching that Angela informed me were “outdated.” Continue reading Setting things straight with the American Chiropractic Association

Hello: My name isn’t Larry

(If your New Year’s resolution was to not miss a single Flashback Sunday post in 2014, CONGRATULATIONS! You are well on your way, with only 51 flashbacks to go! If, however, your goal was to start working out each morning but, instead, have decided to “adjust” that goal by having coffee in bed while reading this week’s flashback, CONGRATULATIONS ANYWAY! While others are getting sweaty, hungry and staring at someone’s sweaty backside in step aerobics, you are comfy and caffeinated. Who’s 2014 is off to a better start?)

why-hire-a-contractor-1 copy There are three things I know about “Larry.”

He is a contractor; he lives somewhere in Multnomah County; and he has the same cell phone number that I do.

The calls started about a month ago, presumably about the time “Larry” got his contractor’s license and began making bids. Since then, he has been a busy man, picking up jobs and making sure that his clients know they can call him any time. Day or night. For any reason at all.

Which they do — to my cell phone.

The Hansons, for example, call whenever they change their mind about what color tile to use around the bidet in their new bathroom. For the Gilmores, deciding between cedar shakes or aluminum siding requires at least one consultation a day. And the Reyboulds are still contemplating the ripple effect of kitchen cabinets without knobs. Mrs. Reybould thinks knobs would make their kitchen look more inviting; Mr. Reybould believes not having knobs would stymie their 2-year-old and keep him out of the cabinets for at least another year. Continue reading Hello: My name isn’t Larry