Anchorwoman

This was the first, and I think only, broadcast package I put together in college. It's wonderfully embarrassing.

Summer reading

I had a dream last night that I wrote an entry about the last couple of books I've read. Like a, "What these books say about me and said to me," kind of post. I'm not sure if I'm so into that now that I'm awake and the day is almost over, but here I am. Thank God they aren't ALL fantasy.

I started Steve Jobs around Christmas last year--read half pretty quickly-- and then set it aside. I picked it back up a couple weeks ago. I loved that Jobs was trying to find a way to save newspapers and revamp the textbook industry in his last year. I can only hope another genius will fulfill that mission. Anyway, after reading, this quote kept popping back to mind. Maybe it's because I'm youngish and at first I didn't see this as a revelation, but rather as pretty obvious. But the more time I give it, the more I think it is a revelation, and in a larger sense than I have maybe before considered:

“I had a real revelation. We were all in robes, and they made some Turkish coffee for us. The professor explained how the coffee was made very different from anywhere else, and I realized, “So fucking what?” Which kids in Turkey give a shit about Turkish coffee? All day I had looked at young people in Istanbul. They were all drinking what every other kid in the world drinks, and they were wearing clothes that look like they were bought at the Gap, and they are all using cell phones. They were like kids everywhere else. It hit me that, for young people, this whole world is the same now. When we are making products, there is no such thing as a Turkish phone, or a music player that young people in Turkey would want that’s different from one young people elsewhere would want. We are just one world now.”

Before that, I read Bad Girls Go Everywhere. Here's another book about a powerhouse boss, but completely different in content and nature. I don't agree with all of HGB's views about using one's femininity to get ahead in the work place, but I do agree with what I think was her point--and she was making it ahead of her time-- that women should know it's possible, and laudable, to climb to the top in a man's world. And that there's no need to apologize for breaking ground.

Prior to BGGE, I read a couple of Fantasy books, including the latest in my beloved Sookie Stackhouse series, but I said in my "blogger" bio that I wanted to read more nonfiction, so I'll focus on that.

I've got Tina Fey's Bossypants ordered on my kindle, and I'm hoping it's as good as Mindy Kaling's Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And other Concerns) but I've heard from friends my order is up for a cheesy basket of disappointment.

                             <






P.S. The stats page tells me a couple people have actually been looking at my posts; if you have any good books you'd like to share, please do!

Potty Humor

After I got off the plane on the way home to Memphis, I passed the bathroom nearest the gate with the very long line and proceeded to the exit. The next one had no line. In fact, the white-haired woman in a pink top and blue pants who walked in with me was the only other occupant.

I took the stall to the far left and she to the far right. After a few seconds, I heard a loud but unalarming noise. "Oh!" the woman said, sounding surprised. "Excuse Me!!"

Unsure of whether her beg of pardon demanded a response, I kept quiet. We washed our hands and I gave her a smile, holding the door for her as we left.

The situation was so curious, I'm still thinking about it. Excuse you?

Sweet lady, we're strangers in a public restroom, at the airport. You are excused.

And the beat goes on

I've been quiet, of late, and busy. I'm covering the city of Germantown now for the paper. It's my first beat, and I'm still learning how to build sources. My coworkers in the suburban office have been patient, encouraging and helpful these last two months. To say the least.

While I've been away from the blog, I've tackled some of my first government meetings, looked at the budget, revisited progress on roadwork and development, covered events and thrown in features from wherever I can find them.

Wherever journalism goes, I only hope it doesn't go away because I enjoy my job and believe that what we all do at the paper is important to and for the community.

Out of the office, I've been playing kickball and our team (Drunk Again & Looking To Score) is 2-2. We play #balls tomorrow night -- yes, the hashtag is part of the name. And in other news, Mr. Seessel is great, full of life and fatter than ever. But not fatter than Meow.

(Left: Seessel wedging himself under the glass table in what I imagine he thought was a sneak attack on my hand.)




(Below: Anderson Cooper holds Meow, a two-year-old who is almost 40 pounds. I want to hold him so bad it hurts. I got the photo from Gawker.com)

The mask of Seessel

Once the tissues disappeared from the Kleenex box, Seessel took a peak inside and discovered a whole new world. What's odd is that he really seemed to like it, stuffing his head inside the box so many times I got worried and threw it away. Not before I shot a little video, though.

Home for the Howlidaze

We had snow flurries today as the weather finally dipped below freezing. With the bitter winter slowly approaching, I think I’ll look back at happier times -- the warmth that emanated both emotionally and atmospherically during my holiday.

• Six months after Kapone the pit bull was picked up by Memphis Animal Services and then disappeared, an anonymous tipster helped a Cordova family reclaim their pet 50 miles from home in Senatobia, Miss. I wrote about the happy reunion. December 20 Weather: Scattered showers, Hi  65°F Lo  50°F

• New church founders raised $10K and decided to give it away in gas at an East Memphis station at Poplar and Perkins. I went to the event and wrote on what may have been a case of good intentions gone awry. December 22 Weather: More rain, Hi  49°F Lo  45°F

• Police recovered a stolen truckload of holiday hams. Enough said. Christmas Eve Weather: Sunny, Hi  50°F Lo  35°F

• Tried eggnog AND boiled custard this year and discovered I liked them both. Especially with a helping of fireball whiskey. Christmas Eve Night: Clear skies, Hi  50°F Lo  35°F

• Dad came to visit after I covered Christmas services Downtown and cooked for me! London broil, asparagus, mashed potatoes and a couple bottles of wine from one of our favourite wineries in Sonoma. Christmas Weather: Sunny, Hi  53°F Lo  40°F 

• Wrote a special obituary on one of the only white business leaders in Memphis with courage to fly against the grain following Dr. Martin Luther King’s assassination here. New Year’s Eve Weather: Sunny, Hi  66°F Lo  37°F 

• Traveled to Georgia for a quick visit with my mom. We shopped at the outlets and went to weight lifting and restorative yoga classes. I’d like to find something similar here; it's one of my many resolutions for 2012, which I’ll write about later, hopefully after accomplishing at least one. Maybe I'll start by breaking a world record… Or attempting with vigor like evangelist Telisa Franklin did with her Zumba workout. January 7-9 Georgia Weather: Light rain, Hi  70°F Lo  41°F

Bacon-cats journalism: Putting the theory to practice

Remember the oh-so-funny Op-Ed war between Gene Weingarten and Alexandra Petri in the Washington Post about bacon-cats journalism a couple months ago?

In summary, Weingarten, whose blast against "branding" begot this column, waxed nostalgic about how content used to be driven by more than grabbing eyeballs. He then lamented that online eyeballs seem to have an unquenchable thirst for bacon-strapped cats.

http://www.scalzi.com/cattapebacon2.jpg

Petri rebutted, saying journalism used to accommodate lengthy features on conditions in the corn market because, for decades, no one really knew what people were reading. Is it more noble, she asked, to give the reader what we now know he or she wants?

Principles aside, these writers have both proven it's a lot of fun to talk about writing about cats. But isn't all this talk about writing about cats a bit of pussycat journalism, after all? Check out the urbandictionary definition, which describes a cat that “no longer looks under bushes and hides in a tree. It is satisfied with the little effort, and enjoys snoozing whenever it can.”

So please, e-mail my latest cat story to your grandma, and remind her she only gets ten clicks before having to buy a digital subscription. (The CA is now assigning value to one's eyeballs.)

And if you didn't get your fix with the two cats whose lives were saved by a kidney transplant, then check out my coverage of last year's cat show.

<^_ _^>

P.S. Here's a sneak peak inside my cubicle. Not even staged: