Mea Culpa

Is there anything we Irish-Catholics love more than to lambast ourselves over something that's really beyond our control?
To feel guilty about something that isn't our fault, but in our Irish-Catholic martyred narcissism we'd like to believe is?
Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa...
Every since I gloated on this site about Holy Cross's big basketball win over St. Joe's they have lost five in a row.
I know our angry, vengeful God is punishing me...I just have to figure out what it's for.
There are really so many things...
At least I still have Everton (nice 1-0 win over Tottenham Sunday). Hey, maybe that's it.

Ebert Bids Newspapers Adieu

Our friend Roger Ebert has weighed in on my favorite topic -- the demise of newspapers and the increasing ignorance of the non-newspaper-reading public.
His ending particularly hits home:

"Perhaps fearing the challenge of reading a newspaper will prove daunting, papers are using increasing portions of their shrinking news holes in providing guides to reading themselves. Before the Chicago Tribune's new design started self-correcting (i.e., rolling itself back), I fully expected a box at the top of a page steering me to a story lower on the same page.

The celebrity culture is infantilizing us. We are being trained not to think. It is not about the disappearance of film critics. We are the canaries. It is about the death of an intelligent and curious, readership, interested in significant things and able to think critically. It is about the failure of our educational system. It is not about dumbing-down. It is about snuffing out.

The news is still big. It's the newspapers that got small."

For Roger's full column, go to here
Thanks to the NH Irish Twins for originally blogging on this. If you can't get there from here, go to their blog and click on their link. It works because, despite being Irish twins, they're smarter about this stuff than I am.

Thanksgiving Thoughts

Here are some random thoughts as I'm coming down from the turkey high:
I watched The Mentalist the other night just because I find Simon Baker so interesting (handsome). Aside from Baker, there is nothing to recommend about this show. The same formulaic plots, trite scrips and bad acting typical of all those cop procedural shows that dominate the three major networks' primetime schedules. Too bad, because Baker is adorable. Although he looks a little uncomfortable to be in such a lame show.
Is he adorable enough for me to waste an hour every week watching this weak show? No.
I guess they can't all be The Wire.

Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorite holidays, mostly because of its simplicity. You get together with people you like, you eat, you drink. You listen to Alice's Restaurant.
Why do they have to muck it up by making the whole thing about "Black Friday"? Isn't Christmas commercial enough without letting it creep over to Thanksgiving? Ugh.

Elderly. Can newspapers and TV stop using this meaningless adjective when there's no point? An elderly woman was hit by a car...An elderly man was robbed. The story will say their age at some point, so why does "elderly" have to go in the lead?
It's rarely germain to the story. When it is, use it. When not, what's the point?
Also, sometimes the reporter's grasp of "elderly" is a little loose. Is 50 elderly? 60?
Man, just leave it alone.
As they say in Strunk&White: Omit unnecessary words.

No tip for you.

I didn't get my Boston Globe this morning. Again.
After several minutes of wandering around my yard in the rain in my slippers holding a raincoat over my head, I had to give in to the fact it wasn't there.
In the nearly 13 years I have lived in this house, the Union Leader has been on my back stoop or in the storm door every single day.
The Globe? Not so much. Last winter I had to dig around in the snow countless times before finding the soggy, barely readable pile of pulp. Many days, I have to look through the bushes or out at the front of the house (where I rarely go) before finding it. Sometimes, I secretly suspect it's been delivered to a neighbor instead. I've actually looked around their porches while walking the dogs.
Unfortunately, my favorite part of the day is the hour or so I spend drinking coffee and reading my papers in the kitchen, with New England Cable News on the TV, before getting going on whatever I have to do.
No big revelations here, no big philisophical point or anything.
Just, damn it, as long as newspapers are still being printed, I WANT MINE. Is that too much to ask?

Dan Fitts, don't read this.

I just watched the final episode of The Wire the other night. Took me a couple days to recover enough to write about it. In fact, this post isn't going to do it justice.
I can say, as someone with 40 solid years of TV watching under my belt, that The Wire is the finest show that I have ever watched.
I won't give away any plot points here -- for Dan and the rest of you that may not have seen the entire series, but plan to.
The show was flawless. No, it's not just about drug dealers. No, it's not just about cops. And the final season -- no, it's not just about the Baltimore Sun.
The acting is fantastic. A lot of the actors are "real people" from Baltimore and it lends the show an authenticity no other show has. The scripts are fantastic. The two creators, David Simon, a former Sun employee and Ed Burns, a former Baltimore cop and school teacher know their stuff.
But the greatest thing about the show is its depth. When the first season begins, it seems like just another cops and drugs show. By the end of that season, it's obvious things are more complicated than that. There are bad people, there are good people. There's corruption, there's hope. Not just on the streets and the cop shop, but in City Hall, the courts, the schools and in the fifth season, the newsroom.
I would argue the biggest villian of the whole series is the weasly mayor of Baltimore -- SPOILER ALERT -- not the first mayor, who was what he was and everyone knew it. But the second one. The weasly white guy who promised he wasn't like all the others while single-handedly running the city into the ground on the back of his gubernatorial hopes.
In the end, the show is positively Shakesperian. A modern-day Shakespeare, 70-hour play.
Why didn't it get the recognition from Hollywood that it should have?
Who knows?
Speculation is because it took place in Baltimore, was created by a couple of Baltimore guys and had a cast that was about 75 percent black might have had something to do with it.
That's a shame. Because I firmly believe if everyone in America were to watch this show -- and get it -- we would understand what the problems really are and maybe make some progress towards fixing them.
In fact, I've been told that it's Barack Obama's favorite show. That's a good start.

P.S. For all you newsies out there -- the fifth season, which concentrates on the Baltimore Sun is the best portrayal of inside newspapering that I've ever seen on TV or in movies. And there's one scene in the last episode, where the city editor (Clark Johnson, above photo, in a pitch-perfect performance) is saying goodbye to a reporter who has been farmed out to a bureau that for anyone who works for a paper and is already nostalgic about an industry that's no longer there, is hearbreaking. No big melodrama or anything, just one simple scene from the heart about what it means to be a journalist.

You can't jump a jet plane...

Here they are. Gord and Bobby. What do you think they're singing? Could any two guys be more cool?

I listened to "Early Morning Rain" earlier tonight and couldn't help but think what a perfect song that is. Lyrics, music, sadness. I love it when he sings "the liquor tasted good and the women allllllll were faaassttt...well there she goes my friend, she's a rolling down at last..."

If Gord's so uncool, why's everyone want to sing his songs?

Sports thoughts

Good weekend for my limited sports following world.
Holy Cross beats St. Joes in OT. That's in men's basketball, folks, the only true Holy Cross sport. I know no one but me cares, but that's a HUGE win for the Crusaders. NCAA Sweet Sixteen, here we come.

And my new love, Everton, ties Middlesborough, 1-1. Yaku got a point for the Toffees against his old team. Looks like his bruised heel is healing just fine.

Who can this brave young horseman be?

Today is Gordon Lightfoot's 70th birthday.
Here's to you, Gord.
You were never "cool." But yet, you're soooo cool.
In fact, even though you are not loved by the great unwashed throngs, you are loved by the coolest of cool, Bob Dylan.
I have loved you for a long, long time.
Long before "The Wreck of the Edumund Fitzgerald," a song that always gives me chills, but surely not your greatest song.
In fact, I am so uncool that I have "Alberta Bound," "Cotton Jenny," and "10 Degrees and Getting Colder," among others on my workout MP3 program.
There are few things that make me feel better than driving along in my car singing along to a Gord song. I was driving through that long stretch between Albany and the Mass. border in a rainstorm a couple years ago -- you know where I'm talking about? (Maybe you don't Gord, since you live in Canada) -- anyway, I was listening to crummy Sunday morning radio and what came on but the Canadian Railroad Trilogy. It was a Sunday morning religious experience.
When I drove to Minnesota from New Hampshire last summer, you better believe there was a healthy dose of Gord on my MP3 player. How can you hang out on the shores of Superior, the big lake they call Gitchee-gumee and not listen to Lightfoot?
Your songs want to make me laugh and cry and be back in 1977 all at the same time.
I wish I could give you something for your birthday, Gord, to pay you back for all you have given me.
Folk on, man. Folk on.

I got your leaf blower right here...II

OK, after let's see, what time is it? OK, after about nine straight hours of listening to neighborhood leaf blowers today (after dark? c'mon people!) I just had to make one more point.
It's OK to not destroy every leaf that's on the ground. Leave some. Oooo, doesn't that feel good? The world won't come to an end. In fact, it will last a little longer, since the earth needs its waste in order to regenerate.
When exactly did it become fashionable to have completely barren lawns? And don't even get me started on lawns, nature's least natural item.
Here's my philosophy on leaves. I rake once in the fall. Once most of the leaves have fallen but before it snows. If it snows before I get to them, too bad. Any leaves I miss just stay there on the ground. There, I said it. Do what you will.
And yes, I sleep just fine at night.

Autumn leaves

Ahh, November.
A beautiful sunny holiday. The air is brisk, it smells like fall -- woodsmoke and winter in the air.
And nothing adds to a beautiful November day like the chorus of leaf-blowers than woke me out of my sleep at 8 a.m. and still continue now at 1 p.m.
When I was a kid we had a storybook record called "Too Much Noise." It was about a cranky old man who couldn't stand all the noise around him. I think in the end he learned his lesson -- noise is good or some weird 1960s thing like that. I can't remember. All I can remember is that the noise in the neighborhood made him nuts.
I am now that old man.
My summer days were shattered by chainsaws, hammering, tile-cutters (maybe the economy's bad, but the fine citizens of my neighborhood still seem to have plenty of dough for home renovations), lawn mowers, skateboards banging, basketballs pounding, car engines gunning. And of course there's the angry day-care lady a block over whose constant "Get ovahh heahh," "Shut up NOW" and "OK, that's a time out," is traumatizing a whole generation of Manchester toddlers not to mention the quarter-mile area that has to listen to her all day.
But nothing rips through my brain more than the sound of a leaf-blower.
We're not talking giant lawns here on Manchester's West Side. Nobody's living on the Biltmore Estate. Yet my neighbors -- and yes leaf-blowing seems to be almost an exclusively male enterprise -- are out there on their tiny lawns and driveways, waving their noisy wands....
Oh wait a minute, I get it now.
Never mind.

No free lunch...

As I watched WMUR-TV's feel-good puff report tonight on "what the change to DTV means to YOU - THE CONSUMER," I couldn't help but notice they buried the lead.
Not so much buried it as hacked it to death, dismembered it and scattered its pieces throughout a giant landfill, never to be found.
In other words, they never touched on the most important point of the whole thing.
Those people who have analog TVs and get their converter boxes will be able to get the digital signal. But channel 9, and most of TV, is skipping over the whole part about how bad many channels will now look to those who still have analog TVs. Some "free" channels won't be available on analog sets.
Eventually, probably not too far away, cable will be required to get in any channel decently.
Airwaves that have been free for nearly a century, no longer will be.
Put your rabbit ears in that, folks.

Still thinking of England...

OK, so Simon Baker's an Aussie?
He still counts as a guy from and English-speaking country that's not America playing an American on TV.
And I left out Julian Ovenden, who played adorable Andrew Foyle on Foyle's War. I hear he's on "Cashmere Mafia." A show I would never watch under any circumstances, so I don't know if he's playing an American or not.

Lie back and think of England...

My many readers have probably been wondering why I haven't blogged about Tuesday's historic happening.
Honestly?
It's because I just don't know what to say about it that a million others haven't said, only better than I could
But, aside from all the big, huge thoughts that I've been having over the past several days, there is one recurring theme.
Maybe now everyone else, particularly the English, won't think we're such a bunch of dorks.
Why do I care what the English think? I'm not sure. But it stems from watching a whole lot of non-American TV shows and movies lately, thanks to the magic of Netflix.
It's pretty interesting, and frankly embarassing, the way Americans are portrayed when they think we aren't looking.
For instance, the fantastic movie "In Bruges," which I highly recommend, is pretty tough on Americans. In particular, one hilarious scene that sums up exactly what they really think of all of us: fat, obnoxious, rude and stupid. Ouch.
And of course, to top it off, the guy is wearing a Yankees hat. Figures.
So anyway.
Does Barak make us cool now?
He's pretty damn cool and I'm hoping I'm cool by association.
I'm hoping maybe the English will think we're cool because we elected him and won't think we're rude, stupid Yankee fans anymore.
We can always hope.
You wanted maybe great insights? This is what you get at 4 in the morning.
And speaking of he English, what's the deal with all these English guys, or rather British Isle guys, playing Americans on TV?
And, if they think we're so dorky, why do they want to be us?
And these are guys who are not the pastey, inbred-for-centuries, get-me-to-a-denist-
STAT! British that we're used to.
These are absolutely hunky, want-to-eat-them-up adorable guys.
It started with "The Wire." Dominic West (OK he's Welsh, but same dif) and the guy who played Stringer Bell.
Then there is that blue-eyed, blond-haired angel Simon Baker. I don't know what show he's on, but I keep seeing ads for it. The first time I saw one, I knew he wasn't one of us.
Then there's Matthew Rhys, the only interesting male character on "Brothers and Sisters." Ok, he's Welsh, too. But still. I just want to eat him up.
Then there's the guy on "Life on Mars." Irish, I believe. But c'mon. Still the same basic DNA. Srumptious.
So what's the deal? The UK sends all it's hunky guys over here to infiltrate our TV and try to win back what they lost 200-plus years ago? Because they know the only real way to get into the brains of Americans is through the TV screen?
I say, bring it on, Nigel. Let's see what you've got.

Strange new big box world

In an attempt to make some extra money, I recently applied to some big-name retail outlets.
And I'm here to tell you that if you have an education, an IQ over 100 or have ever questioned anything in your life, don't bother.
Apparently all hiring is now based on on-line psychological tests that measure how much of an automoton you are. The less a thinker, the better. The tests ask about 100 questions and have you "strongly agree, agree, don't know, disagree and strongly disagree." The questions are everything from "it's wrong to steal," (come on folks, let's all strongly agree), to "when guilty people go free it maddens me" (oops, I'm just not sure if it's that word 'maddens' or what, but I don't strongly agree). And the questions run the gamut in between.
A coworker who used to be a manager at a Borders' bookstore told me that they are looking for "strongly" no matter what you answer. They don't want people who see areas of gray, who see nuances. They want people who only see in black and white and don't question the corporaton.
No thinking outside of the big box.
He said that they instituted the tests after he was already hired -- they made all the managers at his store take the test and they all failed.
Several of my siblings have also applied for jobs taking these tests. We've all failed.
My sister who did kitchen design for years for a competing store failed one for another store -- no hire despite her experience.
My brother who teaches high school Latin and Greek took one for Borders, failed. No job, despite the fact my mom has worked there for years.
And I, who promise you, Borders, and the other stores I applied to, that I won't steal, I'll show up on time, I'll be helpful and knowledgable to customers. Hell, I was an English major and am a huge reader. You sure you don't want me Borders?
The last time I applied for a retail job -- granted it was 30 years ago -- you walked in, asked for the manager, he or she gave you and application. You met and looked eachother over. You filled out the application. Talked again. They decided whether you were the kind of person they wanted working there. You were hired -- or not.
Now, it's all based on a computer test designed purely to week out anyone who can think for themselves.
And I'd like to add, I was recently in one of the stores I took the test for -- not Borders -- and the employees were acting like total idiots. Goofing around in the aisles, yelling insults across the store to eachother. But they must have passed the test.
The more we evolve, the worse we get.

Newspapers to journalists: It's not you, baby, it's me

For many in the newspaper business, the report this week that the Christian Science Monitor is getting rid of it's print editions, except for a weekend magazine, was a sign that yes, honey, it is over.
The writing and reporting in the CSM has always been held up as a shining example for young journalists.
But hey, who are we kidding? Even young journalists aren't reading newspapers any more.
Even John Yemma, longtime Boston Globe editor and now editor of the Monitor, is quoted in today's Globe as saying "Everybody seems to recognize that print is on its way out."
Ouch.
Yesterday, my dental hygienist asked me when I mentioned nobody's reading the paper anymore, "So, is everyone reading the internet?"
Reading the internet. Interesting.
No they're not. They're LOOKING AT the internet. Skimming through it. Watching YouTube videos.
My mantra over the past couple years has become "The more information there is available, the less informed people are."
People are now being bombarded with information, constantly. Cell phones that have internet access, texting, computers, Ipods -- there's a constant wall of noise coming at them electronically.
And people are becoming immune to the noise -- the information. If it's not a quick sound bite, they don't know it.
they think they're informed, because of all the noise. So why read a stodgy old newspaper? The noise generation doesn't have the time or inclination to read. Therefor, circulation is going down never to return. And the mean, mean result of that is that newspaper quality has become eroded. Totally eroded in the case of a lot of five-figure circulation dailies who just don't have what it takes money, smarts and talent-wise, to evolve.
Even my sainted mother -- the woman who somehow made six unruly kids the voracious readers and information-gatherers that they are today -- told me the other day she is considering canceling her subsciption to their local paper, the Portland Press Herald because "there's nothing in it."
Granted, Mom and Dad get the Boston Globe, the New York Times and a host of newsmagazines, but still.
I asked her, "Mom, how are you going to know what the City Council is doing?"
"I'll just get it from TV," was her reply.
Et tu, Mom? Et tu?
Obviously, all the railing and navel-gazing by the print journalism industry is not going to change things. We have to jump on board or get out of the road.
But, speaking as a 30-year and third-generation journalist, it is one tough, non-amicable breakup.

Maine point

I took a drive up to the Knox/Waldo counties of Maine today. For anyone reading this unfamiliar with Maine, this is the beautiful area northeast of Augusta on the route to Belfast and the coast. I am always struck by the beauty of central Maine when I haven't been there for a while.

Another thing I'm struck by is how most of Maine, once you get off the interstate or away from the touristy south coast, is in many ways untouched by time.

Unity, home to a college and the popular Common Ground Fair, has one little block of recently built town offices and business -- and that's it.

Thorndike is there on the map, and people apparently live there, but what used to be its down center is a grouping of boarded-up, falling down clapboard buildings.

In between Augusta and Belfast, a distance of some 40-odd miles, there are no box stores, no Rite-Aids, not even a large grocery store.

Belfast and Augusta have both grown a little over the past couple decades, but not much if measured by the standards of the rest of New England.
One thing that struck me about Maine -- prosperity has never, ever touched it. Not when times are good, and certainly not when times are bad.
I don't think I really have a point to make here about anything. Just an observation -- Maine is still the least known and understood state in New England.

Why I love Dennis Kucinich

This from the Associated Press tonight:

"New York City officials told a congressional panel Friday that they didn’t do anything improper in shepherding through $1.3 billion in financing for a new Yankee Stadium, but the assurances did little to mollify the congressman who is investigating the deal.
At issue was a six-fold increase in the city’s assessed value of the land, to around $200 million. Rep. Dennis Kucinich, an Ohio Democrat, suggested the reason was to make it easier to get tax-exempt bonds to pay for the construction of the ballpark in the South Bronx."

Not only is he the smartest and clearest-thinking member of Congress, but he also hates the Yankees.
You go, Dennis.

Intellectual Obesity II

So, today I'm out running and a lady in a huge Lexus SUV tops to ask me directions. She's looking for a street a half block away. Her GPS isn't showing it.
And she was totally flummoxed when I tried to give her directions. No idea what street she was on or what the main drags in the area were.
Remember the old days, when someone would give you directions to their house or you'd look it up in your street atlas? Or both?
Now that everyone has a GPS in their car, they just happily drive off into unknown territory totally oblivious to where they are going. When the GPS fails for whatever reason, they are lost. With no way to get unlost. It's like spellcheck for the luxury car crowd.
And that's the big issue with all our modern conveniences -- when someone actually has to do or think for herself, she doesn't know how.
Boy, when the aliens finally come to take over, it's going to be an easy take for them.

A few questions about "straight talk"

Are Americans so cowed by the very rich, or just ignorant?
Why would a proposal to make the ultra-rich pay their fair share of taxes and working slobs like us pay less "socialism"?
Why, when even conservative, god-fearing Parade magazine pointed out that regular people would pay less in taxes under Obama's plan do people still not get that?
Why does no one "remember" that when Obama answered Joe the Plumber's question, he pointed out that Joe himself would pay less in taxes under his plan?
Why do many people seem to be deliberately ignoring the facts in favor of the almost cartoonish blatherings of the McCain-Palin campaign?
Too bad we can't tax ignorance, then maybe people would start informing themselves.

Obesity, and it's really morbid...

All the excitement over Sarah Palin being on Saturday Night Live last week just helps prove that we are not only becoming a physically obese country, we are also becoming an intellectually obese one.
Don't give me a workout, don't give me a diet. I don't want to work hard.
Sound bites and YouTube are the Doritos and Cheese Doodles of the information age.
Millions of people watched the perky vice-presidential wanna-be on SNL -- or caught up with her on YouTube or the zillions of TV outlets that replayed it ad nauseum the next day.
Meanwhile, how many of those people could tell you about her fiscal policy while governor of Alaska? Or her stance on things like NAFTA, Supreme Court nominations, Social Security or recount her health insurance views?
Hmgfff mmmm hmgggvfff...pass the doughnuts, please.

DVD recommendation of the week: "The Hanging Gale" A 1995 BBC production about a four-brother family decimated by the Irish potato famine of 1846. And if you're not yet a Michael Kitchen fan -- he's one of the great underrated actors of our time -- you will be after this. His nuanced performance as the conflicted land agent is what elevates this four-hour miniseries from simply really good to great. Watch it!

In the news...

The lead story on the local news the other night was about the town of Stratham frantically -- yes, they used the word "frantically" -- spraying the fairgrounds to get rid of mosquitoes before this weekend's Stratham Fair. Why? West Nile Virus! Bearing down like a freight train on New Hampshire! Get indoors!! For GOD'S SAKE GET INDOORS!!!!
By the way, when a human in New Hampshire actually contracts West Nile Virus, we'll let you know.
Meanwhile, video during the report showed workers setting up the carnival ride The Zipper.
Hmmm...rare, unlikely illness versus carnival ride?
Anyone notice how the hysteria level of a threat rises in direct proportion to how unlikely it is to happen?
We'll go to the fair, eat fried dough, ride the Zipper, then, when we're barrelling home in our SUV at 10 or 20 miles per hour above the speed limit text all our friends to tell them how happy we are that we didn't contract West Nile Virus.
***
Here are some phrases that need to be retired:
"Good Samaritan" -- Does anyone remember the Bible story? The guy from Samaria was the other guy's enemy. . That's what made it such a big deal that he helped the other guy out. But in news reporting, this is used ad nauseum to describe any stranger that helps out any other stranger. Give it a break. Can't we just say "a passerby pulled the lady from the burning car?" Isn't that just as effective?

"Gone missing" -- The English started this one, and at first it was kind of cute. Then EVERYONE in the U.S. started using it. Now it's just annoying. Can't we go back to saying
"disappeared"?

"Begging the question" -- When used correctly, this phrase refers to the logical fallacy of the circular argument. The conclusion is contained in one of the premises, therefor the premise doesn't prove the conclusion. The one we all learned in school is "God exists because the Bible says so, and we know the Bible is true because God wrote it."
Nowadays, people use it to simply mean that something prompts the question. Bad, wrong, annoying.