Next Time, Maybe I'll Get the Shot...

I had a blast at work yesterday, with so many laughs both on and off the air that my abs actually ached--I felt as though I'd been in a bar fight.

At least, I thought it was from the laughter.

Turns out the aches were the precursor to something bubbling within my body--fatigue, sore throat and fever soon followed. I thought a good long nap might shake it, but no--I woke up around eight p.m. still feeling like the south end of a northbound horse, and decided that this would be a day off.

I used to REALLY feel guilty missing work--I was one of those mopes who'd go in no matter what, thinking that I would be inconveniencing someone else by taking a powder. No more. I've gone full circle, thinking that it's best to keep my sick ass away from my colleagues so they don't have to be exposed to whatever crud I'm packin'.

What I SHOULD do next season is get the flu shot--I have no aversion to needles, and, since it seems as though I get this crap at least once every winter, it would only make sense to be prepared.

One good thing about being home today--I got to watch "Good Morning America's" coverage of the return of Bob Woodruff. He, of course, is the former ABC World News Tonight anchor who suffered horrific head injuries while on assignment in Iraq. His personal courage is one thing but what moved me the most were the stories from his wife and kids about how they coped with his recovery, and how he handled what he described as "the guilt" for putting them in such a position. Powerful stuff. Watching what he went through suddenly made my body aches and fever seem like no big deal. And, it left me wondering if I would be that kind of partner if, God forbid, something similar ever happened to my wife.

We see it every day, though--I know of two couples within my circle of friends dealing with such life altering situations. One is a friend of mine who's battling stomach cancer, the other is a neighbor with cancer who's just recently suffered a pretty serious stroke. It's amazing to see the networks of support that form, and how no one allows pity to seep in.

This feels like the end of a Sarah Silverman episode, the part where she says, "Today I learned..." As for me, I learned it's time to get my dumb ass a flu shot, to appreciate my good health when I have it, and to be ready to be the kind of mate you talked about on the altar that day, when the guy reading the vows mentioned something about "for better or worse, in sickness and in health". You never know when you're going to be called on it.

"...Able To Taste His Own Shoelaces."

...that's what a co-worker said after seeing one of the more horrific sports injuries ever.





It happened Monday night to the Clippers' Shaun Livingston as he drove for what appeared to be an easy layup. I'm posting the link to the video here, but trust me: THIS AIN'T FOR THE SQUEAMISH:





http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h6Ghupxbj9g





Yoiks.





It proved to be a graphic few days for the human body--Wisconsin's Brian Butch is probably done for the year after spiking his elbow into the Ohio State Buckeyes' home court Sunday. Who'll forget the brief, but graphic shot of him sitting on the floor while his arm was bent at a ridiculous, unnatural angle? Or, the photo of trainers trying to twist said joint back into place on the bench?






Since I first posted, it turns out the injury IS as bad as it looked, with Livingston suffering multiple torn ligaments. His knee, for want of another term, is shredded.


Many equate his injury to what happened to Joe Theisman who suffered a broken leg in a 1980's Monday Night Game.





http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PQ1iVRRu6w0&mode=related&search=





Graphic, yes, but what's different is that Livingston's demolition could be seen on demand within hours of the final horn, thanks to the web. Those who went to bed early that Monday night lost out, unless their local TV sports guy opted to rerun the video amid heaps of warnings about it's graphic content. Whether that's progress or not is for others to decide.





Remember Geoff Jenkins wearing his foot the wrong way after a dive back into third base at Miller Park a couple of years ago? Or Buffalo netminder Clint Malarchuk almost bleeding out on the ice? It's all in this video compilation of what one guy deems the worst sports injuries ever. Remember: this is tough stuff. It's the product of an era where virtually every sporting event is televised, with action caught from multiple angles. And, it's proof the camera never blinks, even as our hands cover our eyes.





http://www.youtube.com/watch?search=&mode=related&v=9y7CTdh6Ofk

When "O" Says It's So...

A fellow golfer sat on a gold mine. Trouble is, he didn't know it.

He told me one day, long ago, about the mental aspect of the game, and how, with proper thinking, a duffer like me could shave strokes merely by picturing success each time I swung a club.

When you end up driving the water and putting the ball within 10 feet of the cup, you of course credit this positive mind-set. When you find yourself ankle-deep in the ooze with your ball-retriever in hand, you blame yourself for not thinking hard enough about hitting the right shot.

So goes "The Secret", the latest self-help phenomenon. It's a book, it's a DVD, it's an all-consuming media firestorm that got a nudge from Ellen DeGeneres before Oprah Winfrey worked the masses into a lather with not one but TWO entire shows about it. Her O-ness says she's been a devotee all her life. Here I thought her success was the result of talent and a "can do" attitude used to battle extraordinary odds at a time when minority women in the media were there only to fill EOE requirements. Using this theory, I should've been anchoring the CBS Evening News after Walter Cronkite stepped aside 25 years go--Lord knows, I sure thought about it.

We brought "The Secret" up with listeners who'd bought it, and most said the same thing: think, and it shall happen. If it doesn't, you obviously aren't thinking hard enough.

Some pan "The Secret", saying it focuses too much on material things while poo-pooing the virtues of hard work/sacrifice. Others say it's a thin concept fattened up by marketing genius.

I like the idea of a positive mind set, but I know a sink of dishes won't get done by me merely sitting on my sofa imagining the plates back in the cupboard, no matter how hard I furrow my brow.

Then again, "The Secret" sounds a lot about what my Lutheran catechism teachers told us about prayer--if you want something , ask God. He, with the capital "H", answers all prayers, they said. Don't expect a flaming "NO" written in the clouds--sometimes the Almighty answers with a resounding silence. And, if you don't get it, well, those are the cards the Lord is dealing you in the great sheepshead game of life.

"Newsweek" kicks "The Secret" around this week. Read it at:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/17314883/site/newsweek/

Flakes of Fury Part Deux: We Didn't Die And Who's To Blame For That

Much gnashing of teeth about the Blizzard That Allegedly Wasn't over the weekend--some in the morning paper suggest the event was a bit overblown, and that forecasters missed badly.

Wrong.

Add up the totals from Friday, Saturday and Sunday: you'll see the amounts are well within the forecast range, although the numbers trend lower the closer to the lake you are. Ask the folks in Jefferson County if they what was advertised. Forecaster Brian Gotter put together a graphic Monday on Today's TMJ4 comparing what was forecast to what Ma Nature delivered. I thought the amounts matched up nicely. See his stats at:

http://www.todaystmj4.com/bloggers/briangotter/6089806.html

Remember this: the blizzard warning doesn't come from your local forecaster. It's from the National Weather Service. The Saturday night/Sunday morning snows weren't quite as bad as expected, and when they weren't, the NWS ratcheted the level down.

What DOES get overblown is the stuff around the forecasts--reporters in the snow, standing next to salt trucks, asking drivers how tough it is to get around. Hours of the obvious stated over and over for hours, all because WE CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF SEEING HOW MISERABLE WE MIGHT POSSIBLY HAVE IT. We'll pee and moan and write letters to the editor about t-v overhyping the storm, then stare mindlessly at the tube the next time there's a hint of a flake in the air. Remember: the media is a lot more democratic today than it was during the Bill Carlson era, when it TOLD you what was news. Now, it gives us what they know we'll WATCH.

I Think The Talkies Are Catching On...A Mope's Oscar Picks

Here's what'll happen with the Academy Awards:

• Lots of bad, bad t-v from Joan Rivers and no-talent daughter Melissa (what does this Queen of the Lucky Sperm Country Club do the other 364 days of the year?).


• The Oscars will end before midnight, but the post-awards fashion analysis on E! may run on into next year's Golden Globes.


• The Best Looking Woman on the Red Carpet That A Man Will Never Have: Portia DiRossi.


• Best Actress: One of the two from "Babel" (just playin' the odds, since I haven't seen most of the films in this category.


• Leading Actress: Helen Mirren/"The Queen." Duh.


• Supporting Actor: Djimon Hounsou/"Blood Diamond." Oscar loves this kind of story and he was awesome. I've heard good things about Jackie Earle Haley/"Little Children" from our producer/movie savant Gino, and could be a surprise winner.


• Best Actor: Forest Whitaker/"The Last King of Scotland."


• Best Picture: "Letters From Iwo Jima." Sorry, Marty. We can't turn back the clock to give you props for the films you SHOULD'VE won for in the past, and "The Departed" simply isn't your best effort (or, the best of the nominees). In fact, I think "Blood Diamond" and "Children of Men" should be in, with "The Queen" and "Little Miss Sunshine" out.

Flakes of Fury 2007: We're All Going To Die!

White Death approaches.



A blizzard warning is up for Southeast Wisconsin tonight into Sunday. We've been warned. Lord, how we've been warned.


We're getting obligatory shots of snow plows at the ready, of heaps of road salt waiting to chew up the finishes of our cars, of runs at local grocery stores ("What!! You forgot to bring home STRING CHEESE?!?").



Here's how I girded my loins:

TV on...tipped at strategic angle for proper viewing of Storm Team coverage, interspersed with college hoop and the Ottawa vs. Buffalo NHL Rematch of Doom.

..a trusty hound, poised for mushing duty (our friend's dog, Leo, who we're sitting for this weekend). I wonder if I can lash one of those nifty brandy kegs around his neck? Leo!! Come here a minute...

...12 ounce soldiers, chilled and ready for action...

...and, one last look at my freshly shoveled driveway before the second wave hits Saturday night. I won't be seeing this pavement again until, what, July?

TV goes WAY overboard with snow coverage, but that's only because we viewers can't get enough of it. What they've done a great job of is letting us know well ahead of time that crud is coming...heaps of it. Plan accordingly. Stock the man-caves. Stay put. The one thing you won't be able to say Monday morning is, "Where in the hell did THAT come from?!?"

Godspeed. See you in spring, which arrives in Wisconsin around August 3rd.

When Does A Dateline Become A Punchline?

I'm late to this, but it's too compelling to pass up.

CBS "Late Show" host Craig Ferguson used Monday night's monologue to announce his embargo on Britney Spears jokes. To paraphrase, he says the powerful, the bloviating, the self-important are all fair game, but that vulnerable people like the 25 year old pop star are out of bounds.

See the whole thing right here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7bbaRyDLMvA

My take?

Ferguson should do what he wants and let the audience decide. If he can be funny without resorting to Spears, I don't think anyone will be walking out of his tapings saying, "Yeah, he was good, but I wish he would've done more Britney stuff."

I have a problem with doing a 12 minute holier-than-thou screed about it--it's as if he's fishing for a compliment by announcing his ascension to the high ground. Let your actions do the talking--if someone asks where the Britney cracks are, THEN open your cakehole.

I always admired the way David Letterman handled the O.J. situation: at a time when he had the rep of being late night's "mean one", he deliberately avoided using the Simpson trial for comic relief, saying, in so many words, that someone's murder isn't funny.

America apparently didn't agree. Remember Jay Leno's "Dancing Itos"?

One Guy With A Sword In Hand--And The Other Guy Is Holding Something Sharp!

This is TOO good.

Soon the world will know about the local guy who, during a rather loud porn session, gets set upon by a well-meaning neighbor who thinks he's overhearing a sexual assault...a neighbor who doesn't have a phone to call the cops with but DOES have a vintage sword that he chooses to bring along as he kicks down Triple X's door. The Good Samaritan then takes Mr. Hard-of-Hearing-and-In-Other-Places on a room-by-room search to make sure he doesn't have a victimized woman hidden somewhere.

This story made our local news and is sure to circle the planet if it hasn't already. Read more and see the Today's TMJ4 video here:

http://www.todaystmj4.com/news/local/5961006.html

Why does what should be a rather embarrassing incident between neighbors that wouldn't even merit a paragraph in the local rag quasar into a global sensation?

Because the guy with the porn CALLED THE COPS AND APPARENTLY SOUGHT CHARGES!

If I'm Porn Guy, I'm thinking, "Wow. This is kinda embarrassing--I wasn't doing anything wrong, per Se, but gee whiz, looking at porn probably isn't the most noble endeavor. Still, I cleared my good name with the local constabulary and, hopefully, this will all soon be forgotten."

Not this guy--he calls the cops, presses charges, gets the neighbor busted and then grants interviews to anyone who'll shove a camera in his face.

Oh, and one more thing: he tells interviewers he won't back down on the porn stash. If anything, he's in the market for headphones so he won't get anymore unwanted intrusions.

Are we THAT drunk on our own self-esteem that we no longer feel embarrassed? Are we told so often growing up that everything we do is so good, so adorable, so indulgent that we can't muster a blush when we get compromised? Is the quest for notoriety (not to be confused with accomplishment) so overpowering that we can't hear that the world is laughing AT us, not WITH us?

Guess I just answered my own questions.

Shame. It's not dead--but it's certainly on life-support.

For another take, check out the Daily Debrief--a podcast I do with Newsradio 620's John Jagler and Vince Vitrano of Today's TMJ4:

http://podcast.wkti.com/TheDailyDebrief/tabid/1513/Default.aspx

Kentucky Fried Movie Journalism--Fine in the 70's, Death Today

I'm the kind of guy who prefers tasteful cleavage to boobs in the face. The promise of what's to come is always more alluring than the obvious.

Not so much, though, when it comes to my news.

I want it all, right now. The five w's: who, what, when, where, and why, pronto.

I know we're also in the business of "teasing" listeners and viewers. We're often more concerned about whetting appetites and massaging diaries that we are in telling people what they need to know as soon as possible. Remember the anchor on "Kentucky Fried Movie", urgently telling viewers, "The popcorn you're eating has been pissed on--the story at 11!"

Case in point: the peanut butter salmonella story.

Read this guy's take, and then I'll give you mine:

http://www.pittsburghlive.com/x/pittsburghtrib/news/today/s_493893.html

We had this argument the other morning in the Radio City newsroom. Newsradio 620 WTMJ morning host Ken Herrera told of a t-v teaser he saw about a major insurance company that supposedly wasn't dealing straight with it's customers, tied in with another come-on about a local restaurant that allegedly failed health codes. Both teases, he said, came off like regular stories and lasted quite a while--both, he said, failed to answer the big question: WHO is the insurance company in question, and WHAT restaurant is serving up dirty chow?

As we shook our heads in collective disgust about another perceived dent in the fender of journalism, colleague John Jagler reminded us of all the radio teases we've delivered in the course of our careers, promising huge interviews or dazzling details "after traffic and weather together".

Touche.

There's a difference, though, between leaving a listener/viewer hanging through a spot set and making them wade through a night of prime time to find out if a restaurant they dined at is going to turn the viewer's lower G-I into a cappuccino maker, or if the peanut butter sammich the kids had for supper is going to endow them with the trots. There's teasing, and then there's being irresponsible.

Plus, what's the point? If I'm really, really turned on by a story but stymied because my station didn't give me the full poop, there's this thing called the internet that's proving to be pretty damn good at giving people what they want, when they want it. Folks are a Google search away from answering most any question, national or local. Maybe we Old Media types should give people what they want when they expect to get it and stop pretending it's 1982, when we had the audience by the information short-hairs.

Do we continue to tease, or do we risk becoming...inconsequential boobs?

Check Your Drawers For History

Did someone see history through their viewfinder--and keep it to themselves?

It's a legitimate question, now that another JFK home movie is released.

43 years since Kennedy's assassination in Dallas, and we're STILL getting fresh looks at what happened that day. You can see the new home movie at:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TlReI4mVBOE

You have to be a real assassination freak to get a jolly out of this latest look--taken about 90 seconds before Kennedy's death. As you watch it, note the following subtleties:

1. The bunching of Kennedy's suit jacket. The Warren Commission says Lee Harvey Oswald fired three shots--one of which hit JFK in the back and came out his throat before going on to wound Texas Governor John Connally sitting in front of the President. Critics noted that the wound on Kennedy's back didn't line up with the bullet hole in his suit coat, meaning the trajectory of the wounds didn't match up with Oswald's perch in the Texas School Book Depository--leaving open the prospect of a second shooter. A bunched coat works in the Commission's favor, explaining why the holes are the way they are.


2. Secret Service agent Clint Hill, perched on the rear bumper of the limousine. He had Jacqueline Kennedy's back that day, and spent much of the Dallas motorcade hopping between the back of the president's Lincoln and the running board of the follow-up car. How history might've been different had he stayed where he was in the newly released film. Would Oswald have even TRIED to squeeze off a shot, if there'd been someone on the back of the car? Even if he did, Hill would've been in place to shield the Kennedys after the first bullet (which, according to the Commission, missed the car). Instead, he was on the running board of the follow-up as the first shot rang out, then ran to the limo as the final shot--the one that exploded Kennedy's head--hit it's mark. Hill got to the car in time to push Mrs. Kennedy back in as she crawled out onto the trunk, but was tormented for years by how things played out. It took 60 Minutes host Mike Wallace to help him come to grips with what happened--and the fact the he indeed, was a hero that day.

http://transcripts.cnn.com/TRANSCRIPTS/0603/22/lkl.01.html

I've come full-circle on JFK's murder--I used to be an ardent conspiracy buff, but now believe the Commission got it right, despite some sloppy execution. Two works answer most questions: Gerald Posner's book "Case Closed" which you can get at your local library, or, if you want to buy it go to:

http://www.amazon.com/Case-Closed-Gerald-Posner/dp/1400034620/sr=8-6/qid=1171989637/ref=pd_bbs_6/002-5836065-4429612?ie=UTF8&s=books

...or by viewing an ABC News Special Report by Peter Jennings which incorporates Posner's work with a computer re-do of the famous Zapruder film plus observations from folks like Robert Oswald who thinks his little brother was the only one pulling triggers that day in Dealey Plaza.

http://www.abcnewsstore.com/store/index.cfm?fuseaction=customer.product&product_code=S031120%2001&category_code=HOME

You can't help but wonder who else might have some unseen film or still photos from that day--pictures of the actual crime that could clear up 40+ years of conspiracy nonsense and put to rest one of the great mysteries of our age. Lots of people made tons of cash cranking out crack-pot theories and pointing fingers, all while looking for shooters in the shadows of the grassy knoll or firing from manhole covers. Get real: a conspiracy so large would HAVE to unravel somewhere over the course of time. How long have you known anyone who could keep even the most mundane secret under wraps? Don't you think someone would've spilled the beans by now?

They haven't, because the one guy who did it took his secret to the grave--the man whose shots shattered that tranquil world we see in this new piece of film. That's Lee Harvey Oswald, and him alone.

Unwrapping The Obvious Birthday Present

I turn 50 today and I got a terrific present last night. I even paid for it.

I, and other Milwaukee Marquette High School fathers and sons had the chance to hear Dick Hoyt--one-half of the now-famous father/son team who've been the subjects of stories on HBO's "Real Sports" among other places.

You may know their story: able-bodied dad runs with wheelchair-bound son in a couple of 5K events before they graduate to marathons and triathlons. Father does it because son tells him it's the only time he doesn't feel handicapped.

Dick told the story before a packed house at the Pfister Sunday night, injecting his tale with a mix of self-effacing humor and defiance--especially when describing those who suggested his son be institutionalized as a "vegetable", of race officials who seemed more intent on building obstacles than knocking down hurdles.

I don't think there was a dad in the house who didn't feel a just a little inadequate after the presentation--who wouldn't? Here's a guy who competed some 50 times a year without complaint, yet here I am beefing about having to drive my kid to meet a friend at the movies the other night.

Dick reminded me of three other incredible people I'd met, and his speech reinforced why their picture is on my dresser, even though they've been gone for years. I dust it off each week, treating it like just another nick-knack. It took the Hoyts to bring back the memory, and to reinforce what it means to sacrifice for someone you care about.

No HBO special is in the works for George Harms, his wife Helen, or their son Ken.
Like Rick Hoyt, Ken Harms had cerebral palsy. Like Rick, doctors told George and Helen there wasn't much that could be done. Some suggested institutionalization. The Harms' said no. This is our son. He stays with us.
He did, for 40+ years. Helen and George got Ken out of bed each morning, fed him every spoon he'd ever digest, bathed him, cleansed him and made him their life. Forgot about vacations alone. Built a single-level home. Kept Ken entertained, with t-v and sports and by treating him like, well, a person. They gave Ken dignity.

Two things they never did: seek sympathy, or ask "why us?"

Like Hoyt, I remember how upset my aunt and uncle would get when Ken didn't get treated like others--or when people talked to Ken as though he wasn't mentally up to snuff. Inside was a thinking, functional adult with moods, feelings, thoughts, free will. His body denied him the opportunity to express it all, but if you really tried, you could understand. It was well worth the effort.

Ken outlived the Harms' ability to deal with his special needs. Even though they were well on in years, it took the coaxing of relatives to convince George and Helen they did all they could for their son, that it was time to let others take over.

They died within a few years of each other, without fanfare. The story is still in me, the picture is on the dresser, but it took Dick Hoyt to give it new juice. My aunt and uncle live on, in others who take care of loved ones every day, without complaint. The Hoyts are the public face of those in private who share the same trait: the inability to say, "can't."

It's a story that plays out all over the world, when parents who hope for the best for their children get the news that all didn't come out as planned. For children who become care-givers for elderly parents. For spouses who take care of mates whose health betrays them.

The Hoyts aren't here to make us feel inadequate. They, and others without the megaphone, exist to remind us that the thing our kids crave most of all is our time, be they on a bike, in a wheelchair, or if they're just waiting for you to cart them to the movies. Ask you kid what they remember most about you, and chances are it won't be what you bought them but rather, the time you two did something together. I'm guessing it won't be anything as trying as a bike trek across a lava flow, either.

Here's the Team Hoyt story: http://www.teamhoyt.com/

The Line Is No Longer Blurred--It's Got Stubble!

The only thing more incredible than Britney Spears shaving her head is the fact it's treated as a freakin' NEWS story by an L-A t-v station:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=8QZNF5PiquU

"Entertainment Tonight" might as well set up it's Baghdad bureau, and "Access Hollywood" should make a run at Tim Russert, because their beats are getting bigfooted by the traditional press. Is this how the Old Media respond to the internet challenge...by going "You Tube"?

That's okay, we still have CNN to rely on. They would NEVER go overboard on a meaningless showbiz story while ignoring the day's real news.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=8QZNF5PiquU

How Do They Look Without Staples In Their Navels?

It's 16 degrees outside, but about 85 or so in my mailbox.

The new "Sports Illustrated" swimsuit issue arrives, and, like spring training, serves as a reminder that warmer days are coming.

Oh, yeah, there's that other thing: scads of scantily clad women.

This year's edition makes history, in that the cover-person isn't a professional model. In fact, it's virtually all of us know for her daytime job: Beyonce, star of "Dreamgirls" and current music icon.

Why the switch? Why not some veteran runway waif who'd use S-I as a springboard to fame, as opposed to someone who's already vaulted off and is backstroking her way through the pop-culture waters?

My guess: the Internet.

In an age where scantily clad, faceless flesh can be had in two mouse clicks (totally naked in about three) "Sports Illustrated" needed a fresh hook: enter someone we know, who we're not used to seeing in the altogether.

"Hello, Beyonce? How'd you like a free trip to (insert warm weather locale here)? We'll toss in the wardrobe. Mind if we take some pictures and show them to all of our friends?"

It's win-win--she gets exposure (literally), Sports Illustrated gives an old vehicle fresh tires, and even gets Beyonce's mom in on the deal (I think she designed the swimsuits, but then, I don't read that part).

Read about the history of the S-I swimsuit issue and the industry it's become right here:

http://www.slate.com/id/2159853?nav=tap3

Damning With Not-So-Faint Praise

We've all done it.

Parents trying to housebreak their kids are told to make a big deal out of the first dump that doesn't land in a diaper...rewards abound for the child who drops a brown trout in Lake Porcelain. I'm guessing there's even some moms and dads who roll video.

It doesn't stop in the bathroom--EVERYTHING our progeny does earns heaps of honor, all in the hope of building our child's self esteem.

Well, knock that s--t off!

A new school of thought says we might be crippling our kids by telling them how brilliant they are--to the point where we're screwing them up.

Read on: http://nymag.com/news/features/27840/

Same Fine Edge...Different Weblink!

Frequent viewers may remember the Anna Nicole video I posted a few days ago, culled from the fertile mind of "Daily Show" host Jon Stewart. His piece on the late Ms. Smith's refrigerator leavings was not only hilarious, but dove-tailed quite nicely with what I've written in the past about our obsession with a person known for big hooters and small skills.

The old web link, like it's subject, died an untimely and premature death. Unlike Anna Nicole, it didn't get scads of coverage. In fact, I didn't know it expired until I tried showing it to someone. The shock. The shame.

Here's the same shtick, in what appears to be it's final resting place. Sadly, the same can't be said for Ms. Smith who, like my Grey Goose, is still on ice as of this writing.

http://www.comedycentral.com/motherload/player.jhtml?ml_video=82158&ml_collection=&ml_gateway=&ml_gateway_id=&ml_comedian=&ml_runtime=&ml_context=show&ml_origin_url=%2Fshows%2Fthe_daily_show%2Fvideos%2Fmost_recent%2Findex.jhtml%3Frsspartner%3DrssFeedfetcherGoogle&ml_playlist=&lnk=&is_large=true

...And It's Your Fault The Cubs Traded Lou Brock, Too!

Strange, isn't it? The Chicago newspaper that DOESN'T own the Cubs firing shots at the Chicago newspaper that DOES. Hmmm.

I don't see anyone at Tribune tower dropping baseballs, serving up big fat cookies to hitters, blowing out after signing huge contracts, or underachieving after landing a big free-agent deal.

Read the Sun-Times' case against the Trib and let me know what you think.

http://www.suntimes.com/sports/baseball/cubs/258321,CST-SPT-cubsell15.article

My inner dweeb needed satisfying today...so I surfed PBS.

Good thing. I found a series that looks to dovetail a few of the issues I've raised here. "Frontline" delves into the future of news in a four part series. I programmed my DVR to catch the rest, and I'm heading back to the website to catch the first installment as soon as I'm done here. Gotta feed the dweeb, y'know.

Find out more:

http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/newswar/#

Speaking Freely...Or Cleverly Selling?

Was Sunday night's Dixie Chicks victory lap at the Grammy Awards a triumph of free speech or a marketing victory?

I really hadn't put a whole lot of thought into the Chicks who talked their way into radio purgatory with their comments about President Bush and the Gulf War. "I'm Not Ready To Make Nice" is now on my I-Pod--I liked Sunday's performance and got re-intrigued by the back-story.

I don't like boycotts--and, knowing the radio business, I'm guessing the "bans" on the Dixie Chicks were the product of call-out research, rather than some in the industry taking a stand against what they perceived as a slap against a Commander in Chief at war. Quality and politics aren't the barometers program directors use in deciding a song's air-worthiness. The phrase that tips it in? "It tests well." I'm guessing the Chicks didn't after what Natalie Maines had to say.

That said, I came across this guy's take on the Chicks, their song, their movie and what he thinks is their calculated effort to remain viable. Give it a read. I'd love to hear what you think: http://www.hamiltonspectator.com/NASApp/cs/ContentServer?pagename=hamilton/Layout/Article_Type1&c=Article&cid=1171407012258&call_pageid=1020420665036&col=1112188062581

What's Wrong With Today's Media And We Who Consume It

Some talk radio hosts thrive by harping on "media bias": the belief that his/her point of view is so infallible that everyone should fall in line and agree...that only the truly addled would follow another school of thought. The addled, that is, or those who can't make up their mind because television/newspapers/radio purposely mislead by slanting the news to their own (usually liberal) point of view.

A more intelligent and well-founded fear, for those who truly worry about the media's adversarial role in government and society, is the effect of cash on the news gathering process.

By virtue of being in the business of making money, today's media companies are forced to cut, scrimp and do their job on the cheap--a situation aggravated by the concentration of ownership. Readers/viewers want news. Shareholders want profit.

The money that's saved sometimes gets spent not to gather the news but to buy it--paying sources for access, stories, photos and the like. Network morning shows send flowers to grieving parents, hoping they'll share a couch with Matt or Diane the next morning. Others take it a step further.

Enter Anna Nicole Smith's exit.

The only thing more certain than our unquenchable appetite for the un-newsworthy is the fact that someone will pull out the checkbook in a quest to feed it. That's when credibility--already in short supply in this tawdry tale--seems destined to swirl around the bowl.

Is this the case of those playing by the rules crying "foul", or is there truly a rat being smelled here? Read on, if you dare: http://www.nydailynews.com/entertainment/col/rhuff/

When One War Becomes Four...

I'm not here to preach...only to inform and enlighten.

That's my mission statement as I take my first, tentative steps into the blogosphere, and with that in mind, I offer up the following explanation of what's going on in Iraq:

http://www.slate.com/id/2159460?nav=tap3

You'll dazzle your buds at the bar when the topic turns to Mission Accomplished, when someone starts talking Iraq solutions, or in deciding which of the 943 presidential candidates has the best ideas for handling our stickiest foreign policy wicket.

Ill-Fitting Gloves And Unattended Blood Vials

It promises to be the most sensational Wisconsin trial since Mark Chmura's five years ago. Steven Avery is before a jury of his peers in Chilton, accused of the murder/dismemberment of Teresa Halbach on Halloween Day, 2005.

Expect scads of lurid, disgusting details broadcast live for the next month or so. And, judging from today's opening statements, a prediction I made Friday when we recorded "Reporter's Notebook" on 94.5 WKTI will stand true: Avery won't be the one on trial here. It'll be the Manitowoc County Sheriff's Department.

Avery's defense hopes to prove local authorities had it in for their client because he was going to sue them for his past sex assault conviction...one that put him in jail for 18 years. He got sprung via DNA evidence, and his lawyers will claim deputies were in on a frame-job using blood samples gathered after his earlier arrest.

It promises to be O.J. Simpson all over again, minus the glove and Johnny Cochran. All his defense has to do is prove a shadow of doubt, and what once looked to be a slam-dunk conviction could sprout wings.

THIS Is A Tuna Can--THIS Is A Hockey Puck...

Like a tree falling in the woods, the pro football season officially ended last night but few, if any, heard/saw it happen. The annual Pro Bowl needs to go the way of functioning nipples on men and just fade away.

Baseball, on the other hand, starts it's annual midwinter stir in Arizona and Florida. Sadly, it's a long drive to the nearest Cactus and Grapefruit League park.

What's someone to do on a dreary winter night?

Try hockey. The Milwaukee Admirals put on a great show in a premier facility that's built for the game. It's easy to learn--"icing" isn't rocket science, and "offside" in hockey is a helluva lot easier to get that it is in your kid's soccer league.

Here's a great site to learn the basics: http://www.nashvillepredators.com/pu/index.html

The price is right and, if nothing else, it's a good excuse to check out some new downtown hot-spots.

Plus, did I mention my favorite part of hockey? TWO 15 minute halftimes!

(In the interest of full disclosure, the writer has many friends who work in the Admirals front office, and is the godfather of the son of the team's V-P of marketing. No one is putting me up to this--it's merely part of my hockey missionary work. It's my goal to expose as many people to hockey as I can in my remaining time on earth. Some people cure disease...I create puck fever.)

One Of These Things Is Not Like The Other...

Enough.

No more.

Nada.

I'm not talking about the endless coverage of the death of Anna Nicole Smith. Never underestimate America's appetite for train wrecks.

What has to end--and now--is the comparison of the late Guess jeans mannequin to Marilyn Monroe. The only thing these two had in common was, well, those two things.

Marilyn Monroe could dance, sing and act.

Anna Nicole Smith could wear clothes.

That's all.

To put the late Ms. Monroe in the same sentence with Ms. Smith is a grave disservice to a performer who had a viable career despite questionable personal choices...someone who died way before we found out how far she truly could have gone in Hollywood. Safe to say, Ms. Smith had already peaked, except as tabloid fodder.

In fact, the next time someone drops a Marilyn/Anna comparison on you, remember Irene Ryan.

Yes, the late "Granny" of "Beverly Hillbillies" fame has more in common with M-squared, except for, well, those two things.

With Stuff Like This, Why Is February Just 28 Days Long?

February is Black History Month and the Comedy Channel marks said occasion with it's usual brand of brilliance:

http://www.comedycentral.com/motherload/player.jhtml?ml_video=81569&ml_collection=&ml_gateway=&ml_gateway_id=&ml_comedian=&ml_runtime=&ml_context=show&ml_origin_url=%2Fshows%2Fthe_daily_show%2Fvideos%2Flarry_wilmore%2Findex.jhtml%3FplayVideo%3D81569&ml_playlist=&lnk=&is_large=true

Short Term Memory Loss? What Short Term...What Was The Question?

21st century men aren't supposed to get their news fixes from the Old Media, but dinner doesn't taste right unless Brian Williams or Charlie Gibson aren't staring back at me from across the table (I veered briefly off course last night to see if Katie Couric still sported her naughty Super Bowl 41 hair--and went back to Chas when she didn't. Color me "shallow").

Tonight it'll be Brian Williams and company in my face each time I come up for air from my spaghetti and meatballs, as the NBC Nightly News heads back to New Orleans for a Katrina follow-up. They did a great job summarizing the problems last night http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/16992558/, but too little is being said/done in the mainstream media to keep Katrina's aftermath on the front burner. A lot of us--including the radio station I work for--couldn't do enough when the Gulf Coast was huge in the news climate, and we all wanted to get a warm fuzzy for helping out when the story was hot. Where are we now that Katrina slid off page one? Congrats to NBC for sticking with it, even though Williams admits they get tons of complaints each time they head back to the Crescent City from viewers who say they're "tired" of it. Be tired of the harping about media bias, folks, and get pissed about those in the press who aren't doing their job in being an advocate for the victims of Katrina. The only shame worse than the lack of Gulf Coast response is the way the news tents moved on when the story grew a little bit of hair.