This column is one of the best I've read in a while. I'm not one of the shocked Miami Dolphins football fans who can't believe the 27-year-old running back star just quit in the prime of his career. It doesn't matter to me that the Dolphins were to begin training camp in one week, and that they were counting on their star. But I read all 1,369 words. And by the time I got to the end, I understood Ricky Williams and his fans.
Good writing is under-appreciated by most of us, myself included. I realized this recently when I read "Headline Justice: Inside the Courtroom -- the Country's Most Controversial Trials" by legendary court reporter Theo Wilson. (Sadly, she died before she could do the book tour; my cousin did it for her.) In the book, Wilson lamented about the fact that good writing was no longer respected by editors. She included bits of various articles in the book, and she was right; you don't see as much good writing in newspapers these days.
Sure, the goal is to get the facts and news to the reader. But I think we all too often compromise writing for speed and brevity. I wonder if there's a way to fix that.
Anyone want a brand-new truck with 1,054 miles on it? Oh, but it's 15 years old.
[This blog updated at the demand of Matthew. It's not that big of an update, but maybe that will make him (temporarily) stop shouting at me in capital letters.]
More evil bat news today, thanks to Dave Barry's Web site which keeps me updated on all important and unimportant news. You weird people keep trying to say that those creatures are cute and harmless. Tell that to the woman who now has to wait to see if she has rabies -- all because she was sound asleep when a bat bit her ON THE BUTT.
What is this world coming to when 40,000 photos, including child pornography, are found at a Catholic seminary and the head honcho says they're just a "childish prank"? Last time I checked, children's pranks didn't extend as far as 40,000 pictures.
Because of my job, I know a lot of police lingo. When I look at the real-time California Highway Patrol traffic reports, It's not a bunch of senseless codes. For instance, "poss 1144" and "1039 air ops" mean, respectively, "possible fatality" and "start a medical helicopter." Such calls are virtually always actual fatalities, not just possible ones. They don't generally affect me, because there's just no way I could personalize everything I see without going mentally insane. But one call did jar me tonight.
I happened to glance at the CHP site and saw that someone had gotten into an accident while using a quad-runner (one of those little four-wheel all-terrain things that are smaller than cars). An air ambulance had been called, then canceled as the man was pronounced dead at the scene. Fatalities take longer to investigate, so it was while before they called for a tow truck.
But then, more than three hours after the initial 7:45 p.m. accident, crews at the scene were asking for a chaplain. The man's wife had gone out looking for her husband and had seen the tow truck hauling away her husband's truck and quad-runner. That's how she learned what I already knew.
Why did I write such sadness on my blog? Maybe it's because someone said yesterday that I'm one of those heartless media types. Though he quickly assured me it was a joke, I do sometimes wonder if I'm hardened. I remember, as a teenager, climbing through some woods with friends so we could see an accident that had closed the freeway. It was the first time I'd seen so much wreckage strewn over such a great distance, and the first time I'd seen a sheet covering a body. Even then, I didn't personalize it. I didn't think of the lives that had been permanently turned upside down while a camper crossed the center-divide and smashed a Honda into pieces.
I sometimes wonder if I, the person who does not cry, am lacking some fundamental feelings. But then I looked at a Web site and suddenly felt compassion for a woman who had just seen a tow truck and learned of the death of her husband. Maybe I'm not completely hardened.
I'm wondering how many Lehman Brothers heads are going to roll by the time this drama is over. Latest: Little ole' Lodi is now accusing the huge Wall Street firm of conspiracy. That came as no surprise to me, but it made for an interesting day, since I'd just seen some mild fireworks in court. I think Lehman Brothers' attorney is pretty good, but it's got to be hard to have so much going against you before you even get the case.
I finally saw Shrek 2 last night, and it was more than worth the $3.50 I paid to watch it. It would have been worth the full price of admission, too. I can't believe how many little extra things the writers crammed in that movie, ranging from the Hollywood sign to -- well, just in case someone hasn't seen it, I'll be vague -- the police part. (Someone said I had to see that part; that was true.)
And to all those people who left the theater as soon as the credits started rolling, you missed out on one last very funny part.
First they ran the wrong editorial during the baseball season. Now the people at the New York Post ran a big front-page "exclusive" story about presidential hopeful John Kerry naming his running mate -- the wrong one. I think someone there is going to have a very bad day.
In other news, here's my latest way of derailing a telemarketer: "I just spilled oatmeal while answering the phone, so if this isn't important, I need to go clean it up."
So, what has this reporter done on Day 1 of her three-day Independence Day weekend? She has scraped paint off the bathroom walls and (high) ceiling, then sanded. And she has done all this using books piled on top of her nightstand (since it's a bit taller than a chair) because she's too cheap to buy a ladder.
That had to be one of the most unpleasant tasks this side of hell, and it doesn't help that the place has been neglected for years. One section of the ceiling is just going to be lumpy, because it would take an experienced drywaller to figure out what's going on and how to fix it.
Next steps: Drink more Gatorade, take much-needed shower, clean mold off remaining paint.
People tease me about my hatred and fear of bats. Even when I post in my blog about rabid bats, people still try to say the creatures are "cute." Well, they're not so "cute" when they are RABID and lead to the DEATH of FOUR PEOPLE.
Journalistic bat
More bat news. This time, bats are crawling up the legs of journalism professors.See, that's what this blog is all about: Presenting important news that relates to journalism. (Sometimes.)
Posted by Layla at 8:20 AM, July 31, 2004. Comments (0)