Alan Schwarz is a friend of TOTN, and an incredible sports writer. In case you missed it, he wrote about degenerative brain disease in relatively young football players for today's New York Times. It's a scary, depressing story about guys who give their all for a sport I love dearly. He profiles Tom McHale, who died in 2008, from a lethal combination of oxycodone and cocaine. Police determined his death was accidental, but in the subsequent autopsy, doctors performed a test on McHale's brain and found evidence of chronic traumatic encephalopathy. C.T.E. is a progressive condition that "results from repetitive head trauma and can bring on dementia in people in their 40s or 50s." According to Dr. Ann C. McKee, who's working on a paper on C.T.E. cases in football,
the brain damage Tom McHale developed -- which drug abuse cannot cause, doctors added -- probably played a role in his self-destruction in his final years. "You would expect the symptoms of lack of insight, poor judgment, decreased concentration and attention, inability to multitask and memory problems."
All six NFL veterans between ages 36 and 50 who have been tested for C.T.E. have had it. You can read much more in Alan's article.
Today something finally got through the deluge of inauguration missives and directions -- the Sundance Film Festival starts on Thursday. I can't help but feel that in any other January, talk about Sundance would rate fairly high on TOTN's buzz list, but this year, it's not even the elephant in the room, as my boss pointed out -- it's the flea.
It seems really unfortunate to have the independent showcase going on at the same time as the biggest political event in ages, particularly since the show in Washington, DC is supposed to draw jet-loads of celebrities. It could mean the average Joe has an easier time getting into screenings in Park City, but it could also mean less attention for worthy movies. And, according to Neil Miller at FilmSchoolRejects.com, there are 37 films he plans to see, and 13 films he thinks are the cream of the crop.
Here are four he highlights that sound especially intriguing:
Big Fan: "[Patton] Oswalt takes the lead as a 35-year old Staten Island parking-garage attendant who is the self-described 'world's biggest New York Giants fan.' But after a misunderstanding with one of the Giants' players, he is sent down a path that will test his devotion to the extreme."
Brief Interviews with Hideous Men: "It's Jim from The Office. Writing and directing a movie. What more reason do I need to give? Taken a step further, Brief Interviews is based on an very interesting compilation of short stories by the late David Foster Wallace."
I Love You Phillip Morris: "The buzz around this film, which is the one that will forever be known as the love story between a Texas policeman turned con artist (Jim Carrey) and his sensitive fellow prisonmate (Ewan McGregor), is red hot. As in big heaping pile of memorably controversial A-list-actor-kissing-scenes hot. But I've got a feeling that there's much more to it than that. This writer/director tandem (Ficarra and Requa) previously wrote the script for Bad Santa, which as you know was a much more clever movie than it ever received credit for."
Dead Snow: "The story of eight medical students and their encounter with Nazi zombies in the Norwegian mountains, might just be enough to account for a few sleepless nights. And I won't be complaining -- Nazi zombies are f***ing awesome, man."
Quite a lineup! Check out Miller's article, and this film guide, and tell me -- which films are you hoping get distribution deals?
I don't get to go to the Consumer Electronics Show this year, but I'm trying to follow the reporting. And this year is different. The economy is in the tank, people are spending less, and gadget makers are paring down displays and getting back to basics with many gizmos. Here's a little light reading...
Going in, the recession is the No. 1 worry, but consumer electronics is a retail industry that is in better shape than many others. The reason, marketers say, is called nesting. When the economy is bad, people want to stay home to be entertained by their electronics.
Big themes for the show included a big focus on mobile video, location services via handsets as well as net access and broadcast technologies for cars.
A few titanic, feature-heavy SLRs (Exhibit A: Canon 5D Mark II) will sail through CES but so will a fleet of thrifty shooters that anchor cheap thrills by way of thoughtful touches. Look for small shooters that incorporate printers, Wi-Fi, and web browsers.
This morning, an article in The New York Times caught my eye. Brian Stetler, formerly of TVNEWSER, wrote about a new trend in network television news: less and less reporting on -- and reporting from -- Iraq. At present, none of the three major networks -- ABC, CBS, and NBC -- has a full-time correspondent in Iraq.
In his article, Stetler quotes Michael Yon, an Iraq-based blogger (whom we've interviewed on TOTN several times). In Yon's estimation, the change in coverage reflects an anticipated change in American foreign policy: "Afghanistan was the forgotten war; that's what they were calling it, actually," he said. "Now it's swapping places with Iraq." For many months, the networks didn't keep bureaus or correspondents in Afghanistan. Now they're ramping up there.
What do you think of the changes? Do you rely on network television news? Do you care if they have a reporter on the ground in Baghdad? Or Kabul?
I hate year-end lists -- but one of my New Year's resolutions was to embrace things I hate (lima beans, I'm coming for ya), and so I'm trying to find the lists I like. Check out this one:
I've got nothing against capitalism, but I was sort of surprised to see the many ways people have come up with to avoid it. From GOOD magazine's website, nine ways people have gotten around it, including creating their own discounted local currency. (I love that one. Don't like the economy as is? Create your own!)
Marriage counsellors often see couples who believe that sex should always be perfect, and if someone is meant to be with you then they will know what you want without you needing to communicate it ... We now have some emerging evidence that suggests popular media play a role in perpetuating these ideas in people's minds.
So, maybe this Christmas, say yes to another movie -- I hear Slumdog Millionaire is great, and even has a love story that'll keep your Smittens firmly linked.
I hesitate to post this under cutting room floor, because this is not a pitch that one actually wants on the floor. Carline pulled this one out of the Washington Post (clearly a slow news day), and we all filed it under stuff we don't want to get for Christmas. It's Baby Alive Learns To Potty, and the Little Mommy Gotta Go Doll. Favorite quote? Oh yeah, that would be this: "'For us, the peeing and pooping is pretty magical,' said Kathleen Harrington, senior brand manager for Hasbro's Baby Alive dolls." Um -- that's what passes for magical, now? What happened to unicorns!
The Wii's still a popular holiday gift more than two years after its release, but could your coveted console put you in the hospital? Possibly. Apparently, aproximately 10 patients per week are admitted in Britain, after reporting "excruciating pain in the right shoulder or knee," which seems to be caused by the tennis and running games. They're calling it "Wii-itis," and it's worse for those who are double-jointed. The lesson? Stretch before you play.
All week long we've been struggling with the Plaxico Burress story in our editorial meetings. We know it's something everyone has been talking about, so we'd like to too, but we just can't figure out a way to talk about it that doesn't sound like a conversation we've had a million times before. Fact is... We've had this conversation, about football players behaving badly, quite a few times, and that's why we're having to work so hard to find a new approach.
Here's a quick recap of some recent athletes gone awry:
Guns. Burress is the man in the news right now, after shooting himself in the leg at a nightclub with his own, unregistered (in New York City, where the incident occurred) firearm, but he sure isn't the first. He's just following in the footsteps of guys like Tank Johnson, whose bust factored in the NFL's implementation of an explicit policy on guns.
The front pages are full of disturbing news about terror attacks, the economy, car makers, and dismal holiday sales, among other panic-inducing headlines. But Gregory Rodriguez, the Los Angeles Times columnist, found himself at Starbucks the other day, worrying instead about the death of the cafe (see this New York Times story). We've talked before about the idea of a "third place"... not home, not work, but a place to gather and be yourself. Rodriguez's point: with all the gloomy headlines, we need our third places now more than ever.
I've been hanging out in various "third places" for years, and it has broadened my world. In Berkeley in my undergraduate days, I spent a portion of nearly every evening at the Cafe Mediterraneum on Telegraph Avenue. In the company of older eggheads and the brilliant Italian-born cafe manager, I learned how to negotiate alien views of the world. They'd tease me about my awkward social skills and embarrass me when they could, but night after night they welcomed me in their mini-universe.
When I lived in New York, I ate dinner nearly every night at Veselka, a Ukrainian coffee shop. I worked as a slave in the book publishing industry, and sometimes, a young Polish cook named Woijech would make me half a chicken cutlet sandwich and charge me accordingly. The regulars were a lot more world-weary and cynical than the idealists back in Berkeley, and the clientele fluctuated more often. At Veselka, I really learned to chat with strangers.
....
Some of the strangers there have become acquaintances, and some acquaintances have become friends. What they confirm for me is that civic life isn't about structure; we don't have to play softball or volunteer for a cause to better engage with our world.
And yes, he points out that no matter how bad things get, "at least we can go for coffee or a glass of wine and learn how everyone else is holding up, or just leave it all behind."
This NYT essay caught my eye... it's part economic story, part family history. Anand Giridharadas left the country he grew up in to find work in a country overseas. The catch: the country he left is the United States; and the country he moved to is the place his parents left to find a better life: India.
Which raises a heart-stirring question: If our parents left India and trudged westward for us, if they manufactured from scratch a new life there for us, if they slogged, saved, sacrificed to make our lives lighter than theirs, then what does it mean when we choose to migrate to the place they forsook?
If we are here, what are they doing there?
Olympics, schmolympics. Nah, I'm kidding -- I like the Olympics as much as the next sports fan (and especially loved the Olympics challenge on Project Runway last night, did you see it? No spoilers on the winner here, but it was a great challenge. The opening ceremony of the Olympics is one of my favorite fashion events, and it was great to call some attention to that particular parade.) BUT have you seen who is on the cover of the new Sports Illustrated? I can barely speak about it... it's my beloved Georgia Bulldogs, pre-season #1! It's terrifying -- for sure. If we get the cover, we're cursed, right? So I'm not placing a lot of stock in the prediction (and if you've seen the Dawgs' schedule, you know why), just enjoying it for what it is. And here's something for you to enjoy: Knowshon Moreno, star running back, had a little run-in with the University of Georgia Conduct Review Board for violating quiet hours in his dorm. The Board sentenced him to write a "two-page research paper about the harmful effects of excessive noise pollution on the health and lifestyles of others around you." Sounds pretty mundane, right? Not so. How does Knowshon demonstrate he learned his lesson?
To show the responsibility that I have gained over this situation I was recently asked in my room one night after quiet hours if I could do a back flip. My answer to this was yes because I can, but I kindly stated that I would not be able to perform this act at the time because I did not want to disturb my fellow neighbors.
Today, Barrie and I both walked into the office singing songs of welcome to our awaiting paychecks, and while I can't speak for her, I can say this: for me, money's tight. I don't know if it's our economy (maybe yes, maybe no), or just that I have a lot of expenses right now (The shelving I need is on sale now! I have a birthday to attend in Atlanta! Or, more to the point: a tree limb fell on my car! Seriously, it really did), but I haven't felt this strapped for cash in a WHILE. Enter Lifehacker. Every time I forget to check you, you somehow bounce back into my life with just the right top-10 list of tips at the right time. Today it's a top ten of ways to trick yourself into saving money. I'm a sucker for top-tens, and the best thing about this one is that it actually surprised me a few times. The funniest? Literally freeze your credit card. If you freeze it in a block of ice, and you want to use it, you have to pull it out to thaw on the counter. No shortcuts -- the micro will zap it to death. I try not to use my credit cards much, so I found this tip the most useful: write down all the non-essential things you want to buy that cost more than $100 (or $50, or $250 -- whatever threshold means a big purchase for you), then don't look at the list (and don't buy the items!) for 30 days. Come back to it with fresh eyes and you may find you really don't want that dutch oven after all (ok, bad example. I really do want it. It reminds me of lunches and dinners at my favorite place in the world!). It's a tip I think I'll actually try... so, much like the Lifehacker folks, I want to know: what are the ways you fool yourself into saving money?
"Wrapped up like a dude, another owner in the night..."
"Excuse me while I kiss this guy..."
And of course, "in a gadda da vida baby" (ok, so that's really the lyric).
Once a songwriter pens a lyric and it's belted out by some lead singer it's a bit like a game of telephone... One listener hears the words one way, another listener hears an entirely different line. And sometimes, the lyrics you think you hear are even better than the original. Paul Farhi had a fun piece in The Washington Post on Sunday talking about this. And apparently there's a name for all this mis-hearing:
The apparent name for this phenomenon is mondegreens, a word coined by writer Sylvia Wright in the 1950s to describe her childhood misreading of an old Scottish folk song that referred, or so she thought, to "Lady Mondegreen." Instead, the song described the slaying of a noble and the townspeople who "laid him on the green."
The all-time greatest mondegreen may be "Louie, Louie." The song has been recorded by hundreds of artists, but I refer here to the 1963 hit by the Kingsmen. When the song came out, some parents thought lead singer Jack Ely's slurring of the lyrics masked indecent or obscene statements. The resultant uproar led to a federal investigation. "Louie" is actually a sweet story of a homesick sailor who longs to return to his girlfriend ("A fine girl, she wait for me/Me catch the ship across the sea . . . ").
And in the end, Farhi comes to the conclusion that being correct isn't nearly as fulfilling as being creative:
I mean, finding the real lyrics now would be like finding that some other long-cherished artifice of memory wasn't strictly true, as if your dad wasn't really that strong or your first girlfriend, really, wasn't all that pretty. All this may be literally true. But that's the problem with the literal truth: It has very little poetry. And it sure as heck ain't got no soul.
Now come on, we've all done it... What's the best totally wrong lyric you've ever belted out? And how did you finally discover that you got it wrong?
I once saw a bullfight in Mexico. It was small, and seedy, and felt very touristy. Not the kind of thing Hemingway ever wrote about. I think I left after the first few minutes, disgusted. The true bullfight, however, often described in terms of its pageantry and artistry is very different. And in Spain, the tradition of the bull fight may be in decline, but according to Michael Kimmelman in the New York Times' PLAY magazine last weekend, tickets are selling fast.
If you're not Spanish, or not from someplace else where bullfighting is part of the culture, like Mexico or the south of France, you will either approach it with curiosity or you will have decided it is beyond consideration - like dog- or cockfighting, although the crucial difference in bullfighting's case is that at least humans put themselves, and not just the animals, at mortal risk. A newcomer with an open mind who goes to a bullfight can come away feeling that it is both artful and repulsive, a paradox that again seems to sum up Spain's attitude.
"The only way I can explain it is to say it is like watching a tiger, going toward it and being able to touch it," the matador Cayetano Rivera Ordonez told me not long ago. "Sometimes with a bull you have to tell it what you want, other times ask it, and the magic is that each bull is different." Then, anticipating the criticism of outsiders, he added: "Often I feel sad for the bulls, and I wish I didn't have to do this" - now he was talking about killing the animal - "when the bull gives you so much, and all you feel is grateful."
The bullfight, whether you call it sport, art, or another term with less affection, is described as a thing of beauty, of dance, of artistry, of man against beast. For decades writers have lauded the intimate battle between matador and bull. But the pressure grows every year to end the spectacle, and stop the killing of the bulls. In this day and age, is there room for such a bloody tradition? Have you ever seen a bullfight? Do you understand the passionate defenders of the past-time?
Gas prices are high, not much news there anymore. But the high prices are starting to hit in some unexpected places. Indie bands, for one, who have to play gigs to survive but have to pay for gas to get to their next gig. Greg Kot, the music critic for the Chicago Tribune, wrote about one band, Cursive:
"We drove from Omaha to Madison to play a show and it cost us $240," said Matt Maginn, bassist for the Omaha indie-rock band Cursive. "My jaw just about hit the floor. That's double what it cost us before. If you're a new band driving cross-country in a van pulling a trailer of equipment that's getting 6 miles a gallon, and you're getting paid 50 or 75 bucks to play a gig, I don't know how you survive."
Of course not all of us can be rock stars, but gas prices are changing the way many of us cubicle dwellers work, too.
Escalating gas prices are prodding businesses and local governments to take a drastic step to curb costs: Many are cutting back to four-day workweeks, with employees generally working four 10-hour days instead of five eight-hour days.
That's the first line from Stephanie Armour's piece in today's USA Today. Most of the employers cited are government agencies, but she cites a poll of businesses that shows 26% offer employees a flexible schedule, and some are turning to telecommuting.
We've all read the stories about people driving less, biking to work, taking public transportation, but are the high gas prices changing your routine in any unusual ways? Surprise us!
Without naming any names, we have some nervous fliers here on the TOTN staff. A certain host makes sure he goes through the same ritual every time he boards, just to keep the aviation gods happy. And it seems that he's in good company. Here's part of what Sarah Haskins wrote in the Chicago Tribune over the weekend:
Perhaps you don't know how planes work. Let me inform you.
Many years ago, humans made a mystical pact with the lofty God FAA. In this pact we agreed that no matter what FAA asked of us, we would do it, if FAA and his co-deity, the trickster DEREGULATED AIRLINE GOD, would keep us safe.
She was set off by the passenger next to her using his Blackberry in mid-flight, a big no-no according to the FAA gods.
Well, A, who am I to argue with those who would guard our fate in the sky? I am a weak human. And I am not totally sure how planes work. Seems nuts, right?
Just among the small group of us here in the office, we have all kinds of rituals that go on before take off... And so far we've all managed to land safely (fingers crossed, knock on wood, etc, etc). Any other pre-flight rituals out there? Liquid courage? Herbal remedies? Prayer? Do you think it really works?
I have a zillion cousins, each more interesting than the last. It's a family tree too complicated to elaborate on, but suffice it to say I got to spend a lovely morning with about a dozen cousins from three generations on Saturday, and we had a great conversation about motherhood and careers. Sure, it's well-trod territory, but it's particularly interesting right now. Not to me personally -- don't worry, there are no buns in this oven --, but my best friend has a new son, and I know she and her husband have had to work out a solution for their family, and that what felt like a good strategy yesterday may not today. My cousins have all seemed to reach various happy mediums, and what's so interesting to me is that there is so much gray now. When I was growing up, either your mom stayed home or she worked. Dad worked. Period. My mom stayed home, and then volunteered in our schools as we aged. So that's the model I grew up with, but I'm not sure it'll be right for me. Nowadays women can work nontraditional schedules if they need or want to stick with their careers, and since women make up so much more of the workforce these days, some workplaces are actually changing to accommodate "off-ramping" moms. Whatever I decide when my day comes, you can bet my decision will be met with strong opinions. Think we've evolved past the "staying home is anti-feminist"/"working is child abandonment" debate? Think again... and if you're unconvinced, take a look at the message boards for TLC's new reality program, The Secret Life of a Soccer Mom. Chilling. Clearly, how you choose to raise your children is one of the most personal and important decisions a person ever makes, and that decision is bound to be wrapped up in passionate opinions. But why do others feel so free to critique that decision? And why can't we talk about it nicely? So, in an effort to be constructive instead of de-, what's the best advice you received when you were making this decision?
For some reason, I'm pretty into the Southeast drought story. Briefly, if you're unaware, the Southeast is in its worst drought in more than a century. It's especially bad in Georgia, and the state legislature's got an idea to ease the pain... move the border. Apparently, Georgia and Tennessee have long agreed that the border they've shared for 200 years isn't quite in the right place, that Georgia should extend a bit more than a mile into what's now Tennessee. But no one has ever really cared, until now. Turns out, if Georgia moved the border to reclaim that land, they'd get to tap into an incredibly precious resource: the Tennessee River. It's a huge, important river that could alleviate some of the drought in Georgia... but what of all the Tennesseeans who'd suddenly have new addresses... legislators... schools... identities? Now, I'm biased -- I love Georgia, and hate to see her suffer. Plus, Tennessee's flip response was to challege the Dawgs to a football game for the border, and that raises my hackles (though I'm completely confident in a Dawg victory, should the Vols really take the field). And, of course I think Tennesseeans would be lucky to be insta-Georgians. But seriously... what if you woke up one morning, suddenly in a different state, having never left your bed?
A relatively tame ad on the American Apparel factory.
Source: David McNew/Getty Images
I don't generally drive to work, but when I do, Marketplace makes my commute home much more tolerable, and not a drive goes by without some story sticking in my brain's gears. Yesterday was no exception -- they did a piece on the store so many love-to-hate, American Apparel. CEO Dov Charney's back in the news for sexual harassment. He's been accused four times, but this is the first time the charge has made it to court. A little background: the company has created repeated stirs with its provocative ad campaigns. And in the Marketplace story, reporter Ashley Milne-Tyte talked to retail consultant Patti Pao about the harassment lawsuit... and it's her comment that I've been mulling ever since. She said:
When you go work at a company you have to fit with their culture. The culture doesn't fit with you. I'm not excusing it by any stretch of the imagination, because I think it's actually kind of hideous, but that is part of the culture of the company.
I go back and forth on this, and it created quite a stir in our morning meeting. On the one hand, she's absolutely right -- as Neal so eloquently framed it, you ought not go work at the dirty joke factory if you're easily offended, and American Apparel's porny ads are no secret. On the other hand, there's a tinge of blaming-the-victim there, too, that doesn't quite sit with me. And then again, personal responsibility... and around and around I go. Of course, there's a question of degree here -- what form did the harassment take, and under what conditions. But there's a bigger question that's worth considering, thanks to Ms. Pao -- to what extent are you responsible for choosing a workplace with whose culture you mesh, and, once chosen, where's the line between taking responsibility for the choice you made and unacceptable trespass? Or do you see it in black and white? What do you think?
I haven't been able to convince the rest of the crew here to do a show on the Consumer Electronics Show this week (so far, anyway). It's the annual orgy of gadgets and electronica that brings more than a hundred thousand people to Las Vegas for a little "gee whiz" time. It's a tough show to talk about without actually being there (hint to my own bosses for 2009), but talk of incredibly thin TVs, cars that drive themselves, dancing speakers, wireless everywhere, and of course HD everything is worth the price of admission. The consensus again this year is that we're seeing more evolution that revolution, with gadgets getting more powerful, more refined, and smaller, but not necessarily doing novel new things. If you're a gadget-head, here's some of the better coverage of this year's show:
The list of overused words and phrases for 2007 is out... "Surge," ""perfect storm," "webinar," even "post-9/11" all made the list. And it's not just words; phrases like "give back" and "______ is the new _____" (as in green is the new black) are so last year, too. The public relations department at Lake Superior State University in Michigan come up with the lists every year, rummaging through a couple thousand submissions of cliches and well-worn phrases. And they give special attention to us media types... Reporters use terms like "emotional", or "decimate" too often, and often incorrectly. The list also throws sports writers who use the phrase "thrown under the bus" under the bus. My favorite, though, may be one that I use myself a bit too often: "it is what it is." The list-makers point out (correctly) that it's completely pointless. All you wordsmiths (another term on the list) out there, what words or phrases are you tired of hearing?
Guys are more funny than girls? Not in this office (and no it doesn't have anything to do with what was a roughly 5-to-1 ratio of women to men at one point). BBC News has this article on a psychologist in the UK who argues that men make more jokes than women (on second look, I realize it doesn't say more FUNNY, just more jokes... which may explain the gap, in spite of fart jokes). So, how did he do his research? He rode around on his unicycle and kept track of how men and women reacted to his "amusing" hobby. The jokes, he figures, can be chalked up to testosterone. The Beeb had some fun reporting this one (must have been a male reporter?), but in all seriousness: Who do you find is funnier? Women or men?
Today, the buzziest item at the morning meeting here at Talk was the death of Kanye West's mom, Donda. Now, it's well known around these parts that Kanye and I are secretly married, so my interest in the story is a natural, but quite a few staffers find the uproar following her passing... shocking. I know that my first thoughts after I heard she died shortly after plastic surgery were less than charitable, but bloggers, and even New York magazine, were outright mean. According to Washington Post staff writer Teresa Wiltz,
blog dwellers stepped over an imaginary line of restraint. And stomped on it, again and again, monsters from the id coming out to play: "hahahah too bad," one taunted. "VANITY KILLS!!!"
One "fan" posting on Bossip.com took the time to compose a poem in her honor: Supersized menu at Mickey Dee's/No wonder I cant see my knees . . ."
I suppose we shouldn't be shocked that people can be so rotten. Wiltz goes on to muse that thanks to TMZ and their celebrity-stalking ilk, the predicted utopian world of the Internet has turned into something much more sinister, where every mis-step is broadcast for all to ridicule. Honestly, it's not surprising. Trolls are old news, and the celebrity sites have been well entrenched for years. But what I still don't understand is why people feel so free to say ugly things when their identities are hidden. I admit, I'm not always nice, but I feel guilty for those bad thoughts that I don't voice or type... is that unusual? Do you feel ok about stepping over that "imaginary line of restraint," so long as no one knows it's you?
Tomorrow's Halloween, but it sort of feels like an afterthought to me. For the past two weekends I've attended spooky bashes, and I have to say, the costumes have been great (I was a pretty standard cowgirl, so present company excluded). One friend came as the Washington Monument (Winston thought it was a perfectkittyhouse), and another was the ubiquitous gyro girl whose vacant smile and '80s style greet you from the window of every Greek restaurant I've ever been to. That said, tomorrow's the proper big day, and in DC the holiday takes on two forms... there's the traditional trick-or-treating and jack-o-lanterns from about 6pm till 9pm, and after that, things get decidedly more adult as college kids and young professionals pack the bars in costume and carry on till the wee hours (I mean, I think that's what they do). In years past, DC cabbies have offered free rides on Halloween and similarly saucy holidays in an effort to keep drunks out of the drivers' seat. This year? Nope, not only no free rides, but they may even strike. There's a pretty contentious taxi system in DC known as the zone system, whereby your fare is calculated based on how many zones you pass through, not how long you're in the car. If you've been here, you know, it's incomprehensible to even the most veteran Washingtonians. New Mayor Adrian Fenty has decided it's time to switch to meters, and cabbies are not happy. That's fine -- while I'll be happy to have a fare I can watch climb, as opposed to one that's a complete mystery -- strikes are a time-honored way to express displeasure, and the drivers have a right to demonstrate. But on Halloween? Sounds like a recipe for disaster.
I hate to play the grouchy old man here (again), but I was thrilled to see this story in USA Today today (maybe we won't need those theater snitching devices after all). It's no secret that adults aren't going to the movies as much as theaters and movie makers would like. And you don't need a PhD in film studies to realize that a big part of the reason is the obnoxious audiences you tend to find on weekends (and no I'm not forgetting the complete lack of any decent movies most weeks). So theaters are fighting back... with adult-only showings (adult as in grown-up, not XXX), and nice perks like seat-served food and full bars (some even have babysitting services). My favorite attempt to brainwash improve the behavior of teens might be this one:
Two theaters in suburban Chicago require patrons 17 and younger to attend a short "code of conduct" class on decorum before they can see movies at 8:30 p.m. or later without parents.
A veteran of traffic school myself, I don't have high hopes for any "code of conduct" courses. But, short of arming theater staff with cattle prods or duct tape, this may be the best we'll get for now.
Won't it be a bummer, though, when we realize it wasn't just the teens and tweens doing all the yapping and tapping during the show.
Tasers have been on my mind lately; on the train the other day a woman was shrieking into her cell phone while the guy across the aisle blasted his iPod so loud I was subconsciously humming along to Journey. Oh, if only I had a Taser! And before you accuse me of being some sort of sadist or lacking humanity, let me pass the buck on to Rex Huppke. I blame his op-ed in the Chicago Tribune over the weekend for putting me in the mood to Tase (is that a word?).
I have a confession to make: When I saw a group of campus cops in Florida take a Taser to a vociferous 21-year-old student who was spouting off at a John Kerry Forum, I smiled.
I smiled a broad, uninhibited smile, one free from the constraints of political correctness and common human decency. And then I thought, "Hah! That mouthy, self-righteous twit had it comin'."
It was then I realized that, when it comes to certain people, I'm unabashedly pro-Tasering. And before you judge me, look inward. There's bound to be one person in your life, or at least someone in the news, who you'd love to see Tasered.
Maybe it's that relentless suck-up co-worker everyone gripes about. ZAP!
Or, perhaps, Kevin Federline. ZAP! ZAP! ZAP! ZAP!
Rex indulges his "inner mean streak" and comes up with some other good ideas on who'd he Taser at the Trib's site. And come on now, if we put aside all our righteous indignation for a few minutes, and realize that we're not talking about really hurting anyone, this could be a therapeutic (read: fun) exercise... There must be SOMEONE you think deserves a 50,000-volt wake up call?
The other day Scott passed me a fantastic column by Dave Zirin, who's always a favorite of ToTN. We had him on recently, so it wasn't a good fit for the air, but Scott knew I, in particular, would be interested in Zirin's latest piece on fantasy football. I'm a reasonably dedicated fantasy fan, and a huge Washington Redskins fan, so I latched onto Zirin's article immediately... and despaired to read that he thinks fantasy football is more disease than diversion. Zirin opines,
Those who puff the hookah of fantasy football believe that the leagues are just a harmless diversion that puts the average fan in a position to be "more involved" in the game. But behind the veneer of crunching numbers and poring over player statistics that goes into creating a fantasy team is more disengagement than involvement. Indeed, the numbers act as a moat between fantasy owner and the actuality of the game.
Basically, Zirin argues that fantasy football emphasizes the performances of individual players, forcing fans to pay more attention to the athlete than the team. I think he's right, but it's only a problem for some fantasy coaches. I used to be in a pretty intense fantasy league (so intense that I had to resign this year due to ugly politics... I get enough of politics at work, I don't need it in my recreational time!), and there were guys in the league who spent hours poring over stats, reading analysis, and checking the automatically-updating progress of their players every couple of minutes. While I wouldn't accuse any of them of abandoning their favorite teams (marquee Falcons were hot commodities, as the league was Georgia-based), their focus was definitely split, to say the least. For me, however, it made me much more aware of the league as a whole. As a long-time Redskins fan, I could speak fairly intelligently about that team, and probably about division rivals, but that was about it, till fantasy. Now I have a better understanding about the league as a whole. While it may not be terrifically deep, it's definitely more broad, and it makes Sundays even more fun, since I have six or seven years of fantasy teams behind me and can follow the players. One year, for instance, I had tons of Giants on my team, so I still follow Ike Hilliard (now in Tampa Bay), and another year it was Colts Colts Colts, so Brandon Stokely's still a random favorite of mine, even though he's since moved on to Denver. I think Zirin's point is a good one, and he's right -- outside of my Redskins, it's still all about individual players for me -- but ultimately, the camaraderie of fantasy has only enhanced my enjoyment of the NFL season. And, lucky me, I drafted Clinton Portis this year, so no conflict of interest there!
There's nothing we like more here at NPR (or ToTN for that matter) then an acronym. We are an acronym for goodness' sake. Sometimes, in a meeting, you have to duck so as not to be hit by a stray letter. "Isn't he at CSIS.?" "I thought it was CFR." "Can someone call SAIS and find out? I mean, WT*." You'd think, by the way, that chat/text-speak would have somehow missed such an august institution as NPR, even though it's seriously prevalent on The Hills. Unfortunately, no. It's a darn FAA around here (Flying Acronym Attack). That's why it made me giggle this morning, when, halfway through my MRI (Morning Read-In), consisting of the WP, NYT, and Fark, I found this story on the last's rather thorough round-up of "news." Apparently, a streetcar is going into the South Lake Union neighborhood of Seattle. It's affectionately being labeled the South Lake Union Trolley. You can see, of course, that the trolley is acronymically challenged (SLUT). And even though the SLUS (South Lake Union Streetcar) is its real, grown-up, name, that hasn't stopped all the clever youngsters from making witty t-shirts with the SLUS's first acronym. Bless Fark for finding just the thing to make a Tuesday a little more... human. And now, it's your turn to ride the acronym train. Give it to us! (And please, we've heard National Propaganda Radio before, from both the right and the left.) Nail Polish Remover! Nepalese Rupee! No Prior Record! No Purchase Required! (Except, public radio sure does take pledges. Now Pledge yer Riches.)
We're chasing an ender today about when "green"... gets gross. Sometimes saving the environment can be sort of a pain in the butt (literally), or, in the case of overgrown lawns and clotheslines, downright eyesores. (More on that later, hopefully on the show.) Which brings me to the clotheslines. When I moved into my first house, my sister was nice enough to give me this book on housekeeping. It's no secret that I'm not much for the domestic sciences; it's hard to walk out of my house without cat hair and a string cheese wrapper clinging to you. But I felt inspired by this encyclopedia of domesticity. Finally! A method to fold fitted sheets! A complete explanation of what dust mites eat (you)! The enzymatic makeup of stains! I spent weeks in my dusty and dirty house, eating string cheese and reading the book. I was much enthused. I was going to become one of those people whose homes you can walk in barefoot! I took my good intentions to the bedroom first - "The Cave of Nakedness." (How can you possibly not love a book that quotes Auden for housekeeping inspiration?) The list was endless: air the bed out, windows open, while you're in the shower. Iron the sheets, and if you can't manage that, at least the pillowcases. (Seriously, my clothes are wrinkled. %^#%$ the pillowcases.) And while laundering one of your three sets of high quality sheets, remember, don't put them in the dryer. Put them on a clothesline, in the sun (I felt like "in Tuscany," might be coming next). And that's where I got strung out -- the clothesline. Imagine stumbling out to your balcony with soaking sheets, waiting for the sunny day, stringing up a line that's long enough for a queen set! I gave up. I want to be environmentally and domestically healthy, really I do, but it's simply too much. I am unashamed to say I've let go -- every night I crawl into my wrinkled bed with a good book, and eat a cracker and some string cheese.*
*This is not to say, however, that the book is not fascinating, and those who are morally superior to me will probably benefit greatly from it. Happy ironing.
Almost halfway through September, most people who are heading off to college have done it by now. Then, there are those who choose to push college off for a year or two. When I graduated from high school, I had the big idea to run off and travel for a year. The usual cliche: an American student backpacking through Europe. Logic won out in the end, and somehow turning down the admissions and scholarship offers just didn't seem worth it. So, when I read this Washington Post Magazine last month, I was hit with a little bit of nostalgia. Apparently, taking a year off isn't for us slackers anymore... it's turned into a whole industry:
the irony is that the gap year risks becoming like just another award studding the resumes of students on the elite academic track. Some colleges and universities are even starting to promote the gap year as a way to gain admission. Georgetown University occasionally asks a few students to take a gap year and defer enrollment so that the school can hang on to more of the best high school students after the incoming freshman class has reached its capacity. And on its admissions Web site, Harvard University acknowledges the usefulness of a gap year while sympathizing with the academic straitjackets of today's uber high-schooler. In an essay titled "Time Out or Burn Out for the Next Generation," the dean and director of admissions offer this tantalizing line: "Occasionally students are admitted to Harvard or other colleges in part because they accomplished something unusual during a year off."
Schools now ask students to take a year off?!?! I may head back to college. I skipped out on the gap year, but it seems like most people who took that gap year spent it traveling. Now, it may be more about finding something impressive to say on that college essay than finding yourself. Anyone take a gap year? What did you do, and did it affect your college plans... in a good way, or bad?
While perusing the papers this morning I came across a short AP article in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution. It was about a performance by stand-up comic Eddie Griffin, who was pulled from the stage mid-act at a Black Enterprise magazine event outside Miami due to his repeated use of the N-word. It immediately reminded me of our interview with comedian Paul Mooney, in which he formally renounced the word (with which his routines were once heavily peppered). He said, "I had an affair with the word. I was romancing it. I was married to the word. And that was then and now it's time to divorce the word." At first, I wasn't even sure I was going to write about this -- on the one hand, it's another incremental development in the Michael Richards story, and on the other hand, it's an incredibly thorny issue, particularly for a white woman to write about. But then I realized, thanks to this latest iteration I just have a lot of questions, and maybe you BotNers have some input. My first question is about comedians choosing not to use the N-word: Is it different when someone -- or a group -- makes that decision for you, as in Griffin's case? And secondly, as was raised by a commenter at Defamer: Is this going to end up putting black comics out of business? (I think Mr. Mooney would say no, after all, "funny is funny," even without that word.)
I am an obsessive list-maker. My roommate, who is well-aware of my compulsion to write lists for everything, often finds my notes scrawled on the backs of receipts and envelopes. She's much classier than me, so she brings me back post-its and notepads from wherever she travels to indulge my obsession... so now, all over the house you can find a to-do list here on paper that looks like the Alamo, a shopping list on paper from a French museum, or library books tallied on Westin stationery. There's just something so satisfying about crossing each grocery item off as I drop it in my cart, or X-ing out "clean litter box" after completing that odorous task. Once, when browsing through my favorite bookstore six years ago, I happened upon a total oddity -- the first issue of Found magazine, a periodical dedicated to my detritus and that of people like me. Found doesn't only compile lists -- they'll take anything from photos to lists to love letters to homework, so long as the submission was found by someone other than the creator (my eyes were glued to the sidewalk for weeks after I read the magazine -- my best find was a photo of a toddler at a drum set). Found has yielded at least five books, and if the latest round of books from other folks is any indication, the transient jottings of a population are only becoming more popular -- see our show last week on life lists, and add to it the Illegal Art Post-It note project and this book of grocery lists. What makes these little missives we pen to ourselves so appealing to outsiders? What kinds of lists do you make, and do you have little rules for them*?
*Cross-out color should be different than item color, handwriting should be neat, pencils should rarely if ever be used, items need not be completed in order...
Before "The Higher Power of Lucky" ever did battle with censors, and way before Harry Potter was accused of Satanism, there was Judy Blume. If you're my age, she, along with the inimitable Beverly Cleary, was the voice for adolescents. (And later, her racier adult books were something stolen from your parents.) Freckle Juice, Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, SuperFudge, and the heartbreaking Blubber (best book about peer pressure), were the ultimate guides to being a kid, while the seminal (yes! I used that word!) Are You There God, It's Me Margaret?, was the ultimate coming of age book. Well, Judy is still writing -- her new book, Soupy Saturdays, comes out today, but even more importantly, I've just noticed that Judy has a blog. (I'm calling her Judy, because honestly, I really feel like I know her. No disrespect meant.) In any case, I'm so glad that Judy's on the web -- and I'm dying to book her on the show. Any reaction, YA lovers? What's your favorite Blume book? Don't be shy.
So far I've been pretty immune to all the product recalls from China. The pet food scare passed, I don't buy any toys (unless you count Best Buy as a toy store), my fish isn't Chinese, and my blankets are old. To be fair, I don't can't use chopsticks, either. But for some reason this story triggered my gag reflex. I have no idea if these things were even made for export (probably not), but the thought of using somebody else's old, dirty chopsticks is enough to make me spit-up my Shaobing. This is all very fitting since we had originally planned to do a show on OCD today (and will probably revisit that subject next week). Sure, I use the paper towel to open the bathroom door, and wash my hands after riding the subway. That's not all that uncommon. Though, now I'll probably sniff my plastic silverware, too! I'll open the floor to other quirks out there...
Do you own a satellite radio? I was lucky enough to receive one for my last birthday, and so the past few weeks have passed in a happy blur of all the music I can't find on terrestrial radio, from the National to Buck Owens, Martha Reeves to Social Distortion. And, since long before I got hooked up, rumors have been flying that XM and Sirius soon will become one. It's more than just rumors -- Sirius CEO Mel Karmazin has been trying to convince FCC Chairman Kevin Martin that the merger wouldn't create a monopoly on satellite radio, that in fact consumers would end up with more choices, and that satellite has other natural competitors like the iPod and traditional radio. It just might be working... and this week's interesting and seemingly unrelated approval of Whole Foods' takeover of the Wild Oats chain is an encouraging development to those vying for an XM/Sirius combo. The natural grocers' buyout isn't a done deal -- the FTC is appealing -- but what do you think? Is the conditional approval of this deal in the organic groceries market a signal that antitrust concerns are on the wane? Or are these deals just apples and oranges?
Imagine the looks on my colleague's faces when I pitched an idea about opera. Now imagine the looks on their faces when I pitched a show about filthy opera. (Basically, if you add porn to opera, even a non-opera lover perks up a bit.) I was shouted down, of course -- but not until after I had shouted a few totally non opera/NPR terms. (I win!) So to call this a "cutting room floor" post isn't totally accurate. It's more like the foyer to the cutting room. Here's the story: a style of of opera direction is starting to flourish in Europe (mostly Germany) -- it's called Regietheatre, or "director's theater." It's been around for a while, really, but the gist of it is rather extreme interpretations of operas that not only completely disregard the composer's specific directions, but will also veer stunningly -- and occasionally disgustingly -- away from major elements of location, chronology, and plot. And this, my friends, is not like watching Carmen set in Fascist Italy. It's more like watching Carmen set in the middle of a particularly nasty Quentin Tarantino film. I feel like I can't really put digital pen to paper to describe what actually goes on in some of these productions -- not because I'm a prude, but because I'm not totally sure NPR wants a detailed description of the kinds of things that go on in many of these productions. (If you do, read this. And this.) Suffice it to say, intravenous drug use and gang rape are de rigueur. Now, I love theatre. I love opera. I love modern interpretations of both. But particularly in the case of opera, I find myself sort of old-fashioned on this front. At Juilliard, we were lucky to get free tickets to the Metropolitan Opera on occasion, and one of the things that made standing room (in heels!) bearable was the beauty of not just the music, but the productions themselves. Opera is a glittering world of detailed loveliness; even though they feature suicides, war, murder, and all kinds of brutality. For me, it's sort of the point; it's imperative that Madame Butterfly's suicide be as beautiful as her arias. And that's not to say that I don't love grittiness. I just don't love it in my opera. I can't tell if this makes me shallow or not... or anti-intellectual. (It might make me anti-Marxist?) It does, however, make me anti-regietheatre. And, I'm hoping to never see Carmen shoot up at the Met. That, I would not stand for.
Just when you think you've seenitall on YouTube, another story pops up with a twist. This time it's from our fair city, Washington, DC. The owner of a neighborhood corner store, LeDroit Park Market, is sick and tired of being robbed at gunpoint... so he's posting surveillance videos of the stick-ups on YouTube (with help from an outraged resident), and in the prologue to the video he specifically calls out the Mayor, the councilmember, and the police chief, imploring them to fight crime in LeDroit Park. According to the Washington Post story, he's got their attention, and an arrest has been made. What's more, the community is rallying around the store, raising money to purchase an additional camera for the exterior. Has anything like this happened where you live? Is there a downside to this kind of community policing?
This morning I was a little later than usual coming in to work (if the bosses are reading this: not late to work, just later than usual). On any other day, that would mean I don't get a seat on the train and have to ride in someone's armpit for 40 minutes. But, this is one of those weird weeks where a big old holiday falls right in the middle of the work week. And, since traffic seemed non-existent today, too, I'm guessing we're seeing the start of a six day weekend here (again bosses: I don't mean HERE here, just here in general). Sadly, I won't be "working" from home this week, or calling in "sick." But, what about the rest of you... Any plans to play hooky for the remainder of the week (or suggestions of good excuses to tell the bosses? Bosses: just kidding)?
Inventors always seem to give the same advice: come up with a good idea, and a way to sell it, and you'll be filthy rich. I'm not sure this guy actually invented anything, but it's sure an interesting way to make money. About $70 will get you one breakup message, delivered, so you don't have to. And, if you're classy enough to do the dumping in person, Bernd Dressler will coach you on how to do it. He averages about three minutes per break-up, so he must be a pro at the drive-by dumping. (His services also include advice on how to save your relationship, though if that doesn't work he can handle the breakup, too.) Anyway, it seems to me that if Bernd can make money by delivering breakups, you can make money handling all kinds of desperate news for people... from "you're fired!" to "get out of my house!" to "Sorry, I ran over your dog." (Or, more personally, "Neal, I lost the scripts for today's show!") What other bad news would you pay to have delivered?
I think it was Braveheart playing... I'm sitting in the theater, packed house, with a big screen full of all that angst and anger and heroic violence (testosterone pumping stuff). And the guy in front of me gets on his cell phone. And talks. And talks. Loudly. It was my first... and so far only... experience with theater rage. Nobody got hurt (except poor, kilted Mel), but I wish we had access to one of these. Nobody likes a tattletale, but you get special dispensation for shutting someone up in a movie theater. And if Regal theaters let you do it anonymously, I'll be a whistle blower any day (though I'm not a member of their points program, so I'm not technically eligible). It's a small gadget, about the size of a cell phone, with four buttons. One for picture problems, one for audio, another if you spot digital piracy in the theater, and that final, wonderful button that says, "other disturbance." It might as well say "*#&$& person talking." Either way, once you push it a manager is summoned wirelessly (and maybe comes running with a long cane that pulls the yapper out of their seat, stage right?). Regal's senior V.P. was quoted in USA Today, "We have noticed over the years that customer etiquette has become more and more of a problem." Understatement? Sure, but at least they're doing something about it. Any movie going horror stories, or other novel ideas to stomp it out? Comment away...
This is the like incredible repeating story, but it seems to have reached a critical mass this year... U.S. News and World Report comes out with its 2007 issue, America's Best Colleges, and some of America's best colleges cry foul. That doesn't stop students from lining up to buy the issue. It's even been called U.S. News' "swimsuit issue." Now, schools know they can't stop the rankings, but they are hoping to convince other colleges to boycott them... not turn over data, no filling out review forms of other schools, no more marketing schools as number XX on the U.S. News rankings, etc, etc, etc. And administrators are making their case in letters to other campuses, on their blogs, and in the media. Their argument is that the rankings are misleading, and that it's not their job to help promote a magazine. But people love their lists, especially top "whatever" lists, and frankly, when I considered grad school, you bet I looked up all sorts of rankings. So, do you use rankings even if they're not necessarily scientific (for anything... schools, cars, radio shows, blogs), or are the numbers just another case of information overload?
I can't help it, I'm a little distracted at work this week... next week I'm flying and ferrying to sunny Tortola in the British Virgin Islands for a relaxing, beach-lounging, cocktail-sipping vacation. It's hard to think about the important news of the day when pressing issues like how many pairs of flip-flops I'll need and "what's the lowest level of sunblock I can get away with?" crowd my head. One story that did manage to break through to me is this one, an AP story about vacationing in Second Life.
I have to admit, I'm personally skeptical of all-to-most things Second Life. Professionally, I think it's pretty interesting that folks are trading Linden bucks for real currency, making a living in this alternate reality, and learning things there too. But for me, the idea that a vacation in Second Life could ever approximate a real vacation is dubious at best. Sure, it sounds amazing -- jet from a disco in Brazil to a pub in Dublin to a beach in Hawaii, all in the space of two hours! But can this sort of travel really ever amount to more than eye strain and carpal tunnel?
So here's your chance to convince me: Do you spend a lot of time in Second Life? Are you thinking of buying the Second Life tourists' guide? Does the virtual measure up to the actual? And if you have any advice on Tortola... post that too!
I've had my share of bad ideas over the years... the funny sympathy card, white-out as wall paint, that show on piano playing cats. But I think all is forgiven (at least in my mind) after this story: teachers reportedly faked a gun attack on their sixth-grade students. The lights went out, students were told to lay under tables and stay quiet... that this was not a drill. Many of them started to cry, and a disguised teacher pretended to pry at the door, according to some of the students and their parents. One 11-year-old was quoted as saying, "I thought I was going to die. We flipped out." Apparently it was all meant as a prank, and the assistant principal says it was supposed to be a "learning experience." The school admits this was a case of "poor judgment," but hasn't commented on disciplinary action.
You read all the time that passwords need to be "secure," and by that I assumed the experts meant don't use "password" as your password. Though it turns out "password" is the most commonly used online password, followed by "123456," and "qwerty" (if that means nothing to you, just look at the top row of letters on your keyboard). PC Magazine has the list in their May 8th issue. I've never used any of those, but I thought I was some sort of creative genius for years because I used the easy-to-remember "letmein" to login to some of my less than urgent accounts (read: not banks, etc). "letmein" is the #5 most used password... I am humbled, and am probably not the only one, "monkey" is #6, "blink182" is #9, your own first name is #10). You can find the rest of the list here. While I go change my passwords, are there any passwords you've used over the years that, looking back, seem a little dumb?
I've been to exactly one NFL football game in the last 10 years... a Washington Redskins game that didn't have a happy ending. Still, even I can rattle off names like Pacman Jones, Chris Henry, Tank Johnson... and not because of anything they did on the field. Some fifty NFL players got themselves arrested in the last 15 months or so... on charges related to guns, drugs, assault, vandalism, drunk driving, etc, etc, etc (there's a whole website dedicated to players' bad behavior). To crack down, the league came up with tougher rules... including lifetime bans on repeat offenders and even penalties against teams for the off-field mayhem of their players. And this weekend it's game time... the NFL draft will put the new rules to the test, in theory. Will teams change the way they pick players? Most say they will. But, if the scoreboard is in your teams favor at the end of the fourth quarter, do you care that the all-star defensive back shoots up a nightclub in his off-time?
Yesterday's Blackberryoutage helps explains why my Wednesday morning commute was a little crazier than usual. The blank stares of crackberry withdrawal is unmistakable (it sure seemed to me like there were more traffic accidents, and I'm sure more than one person walked into an inanimate object while installing new batteries on the go). The best (worst?) story of the great Blackberry outage of 2007, though, was from this guy. Losing your primary connection to the outside world is tough enough, but losing your girlfriend because of lousy tech support seems just plain wrong. Any other horror stories from yesterday morning... meetings missed, deals blown, dates lost?
Regular listeners know that Tuesday is the day we read from your emails and blog posts on the show. Needless to say, this week the news out of Virginia Tech took priority. Rather than filing away some perfectly good emails, though, I thought I'd post them here at the blog instead...
Our conversation last week about Don Imus's crude remarks directed at the Rutgers women's basketball team elicited hundreds of emails. Penny in Phoenix took issue with the argument, and the defense, that Imus just repeated words used everyday in hip hop music:
Just before I left work on Friday, Barrie and I had a conversation about the blogging week-to-come, and I volunteered to do a post on NASCAR after the debut of the Car of Tomorrow. I've just recently taken an interest in the sport, and feel it's incredibly undercovered on our air, particularly given its popularity (second only to the NFL in terms of TV audience). I thought about my post on and off all weekend, but as soon as I stepped back into HQ this morning I found it difficult to talk about anything other than Georgetown's Elite Eight win yesterday in the NCAA tournament. I love the tournament and I love the Hoyas, so that contributes to my lack of focus, but that's not all ... there's something taboo about NASCAR. I don't know if it's that urban professionals don't watch it, or just don't talk about it, but it seems incredible that a sport that packs the stands at Bristol -- all 160,000 seats -- gets little or no mention on our air or in our hallways.
NPR's tradition of sports coverage is somewhat less than comprehensive -- we're not a sports network, so it's not a critique, and we can't be all things to all people -- and I truly love the contributions of folks like Alan Schwarz, Frank Deford, and Stefan Fastis. Today, Morning Edition's got two sports stories on the air -- a Final Four preview, and a commentary on cricket. I wouldn't argue that either doesn't belong there -- obviously, the Final Four is news, and there's heightened interest in cricket right now due to the gruesome murder of the Pakistani team's coach. Additionally, stories on lesser-known sports are great, and one of the reasons folks listen to us. My problem isn't with what we do cover, it's with what we don't (and it's not just us -- a perfunctory Google News search brings up a bunch of wire stories and not a whole lot of outside reporting) ... and, perhaps more meatily, why? What is it about NASCAR that relegates it to the back pages of the paper and occasionalmention on our air?
Here's something we've been sitting on for a few days, trying to work it into the show. We haven't found a spot for it yet, so I thought I'd get to it here ... The Wall Street Journal's Raymond Sokolov has done what many aspire to but few have managed -- while holding down a job, anyway. From coast to coast he ate cheeseburgers in search of the very best. His winner can be found just outside Atlanta -- what's yours? I too have some pretty definite criteria for the ideal burger, and I'd like to hear where you tuck into yours, and what makes it so good.
Sometimes we come across a story that we desperately want to air ... and there's just no room for it. Our day is pretty well set today (we're going from Kurdistan to sportscasting legend George Michael) but the story that got us all giggling, we unfortunately haven't got a minute for today. The state of Arkansas has passed a bill declaring that the correct possessive of Arkansas, is not, as the AP Style guide that's chained to my desk says, "Arkansas," but "Arkansas's." (I just had a brain spasm trying to punctuate that.)
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