so erica told me when i walked in this morning that someone from the fairfield legion called about my column. here we go, right? actually, she said, it wasn't the guy who i had talked to, but rather the actual leader of that post. he was calling to apologize to me and to tell me that he had no idea why that person spoke to me like that. he knew who he was and he said that he was going to have a talk with him about it at the legion meeting on tuesday. "he's just getting old," this guy, lynn, said.
he said that he was sorry and that i was invited to the event and that they wanted me to cover the event, pictures and all. "we need the coverage," he said. he said that there was nothing illegal about what they were doing, so i should have been able to take pictures, as they were playing with fake money and buying the prizes with fake money. boo-yah.
anyone else want to challenge me?
Friday, February 27, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
flak
just got off the phone with a reader who wanted to share his opinion about my column this week. i think his first word was "hello" and his last were "i just think it's a bit insensitive." in between were many others. it went something like this:
-he was from a different town and he wasn't at the event, but he said that he thought the altercation could have been avoided if i would have asked permission to take photos before the event. [1) true. but i still wouldn't have been able to take pictures, and the principle of my argument would still apply. 2) i shouldn't have to ask permission to take photos at every event, like he believed i should. as the rare deloose put it, "journalists take a pad of paper. and. a. camera." pictures accompany stories. do you want to read a newspaper that's entirely text, sir?]
-he didn't believe "it" was newsworthy. [when i asked for clarification on his "it," whether he was referring to the event in question or my column, he answered the latter. which makes me not take anything he said too seriously, because it's a column, not a news story. and it wasn't an obscure column, it was responding to a current issue of cooperation in the community of coverage.]
-he thought it was "insensitive." [and you're entitled to your opinion. but i have the newspaper to voice mine. freedom of the press. but really, i could have been a lot more insensitive. and, as i said in my last post, i tried to err on the side of nicety meets disappointment, rather than an attack on the individual. by turning it into a community journalism issue, i hoped to avoid such criticism.]
so if i only get this one phone call, i'll consider it a success. if i get several more, or a few this weekend when i go back to fairfield, i'll consider it a success. a) at least i'll know people are reading, and b) that it at least made them think about what i'm saying. goulet, gauthier, dyer: finagle some brass knuckles and make some phone calls. if this turns into an inter-state rumble (a la greasers and soc's) i'll need you to have my back.
-he was from a different town and he wasn't at the event, but he said that he thought the altercation could have been avoided if i would have asked permission to take photos before the event. [1) true. but i still wouldn't have been able to take pictures, and the principle of my argument would still apply. 2) i shouldn't have to ask permission to take photos at every event, like he believed i should. as the rare deloose put it, "journalists take a pad of paper. and. a. camera." pictures accompany stories. do you want to read a newspaper that's entirely text, sir?]
-he didn't believe "it" was newsworthy. [when i asked for clarification on his "it," whether he was referring to the event in question or my column, he answered the latter. which makes me not take anything he said too seriously, because it's a column, not a news story. and it wasn't an obscure column, it was responding to a current issue of cooperation in the community of coverage.]
-he thought it was "insensitive." [and you're entitled to your opinion. but i have the newspaper to voice mine. freedom of the press. but really, i could have been a lot more insensitive. and, as i said in my last post, i tried to err on the side of nicety meets disappointment, rather than an attack on the individual. by turning it into a community journalism issue, i hoped to avoid such criticism.]
so if i only get this one phone call, i'll consider it a success. if i get several more, or a few this weekend when i go back to fairfield, i'll consider it a success. a) at least i'll know people are reading, and b) that it at least made them think about what i'm saying. goulet, gauthier, dyer: finagle some brass knuckles and make some phone calls. if this turns into an inter-state rumble (a la greasers and soc's) i'll need you to have my back.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
editorial (as promised..)
per my last post, ME to NE made its print debut this week in response to my post master friend in fairfield. here's the full column, including bits i had to edit out for length:
Less than 24 hours after I arrived in Clay County Nebraska, I was on assignment covering Fairfield's Christmas festivities. Complete with first job/first assignment/alone in a new place jitters, I covered the event with a hesitancy, but soon realized that an uncomfortable approach was not only not necessary, but that everyone there was more than happy to help and to talk.
I'm used to a friendly community, relatively speaking, as I was born and raised in what we call a small town in southern Maine, which, for the most part, possesses a pleasant demeanor. I then moved to North Carolina for college, where I received a dose of the southern hospitality and first encountered the "hello"s and waves from the random passerby.
Still, the generosity and comforting conversations that have characterized the area for me have been far more sincere and universal than anything I've previously experienced. On nearly every assignment since that first one, people have continued to be helpful. They always seem extremely appreciative to see someone from the paper at their event, thanking me for the coverage.
And I've come to expect that from the community when I go out on assignment now. Not just because I know people are friendly and enjoy having publicity, but because that's the spirit of a community newspaper. Whereas the industry as a whole is declining in the face of new media, the "community journalism" has weathered the storm.
Consumers can get their news from anywhere these days. By picking up a larger, daily newspaper or turning on the television or browsing the internet, news is literally at your fingertips anytime you want it. What you can't find in these places are the stories of the people and events that make a community what it is.
Just as you depend upon your local newspaper to bring you the news of the area, so does the paper depend on your support to operate and serve you. And up until this past weekend, such mutual cooperation was something I had encountered on a daily basis, which made the following that much more surprising and upsetting.
On Saturday night I found myself back in Fairfield for the town's "Casino Night." Like all such community fundraiser events, I expected people to be having a good time, and I expected to have a good story to present to the public who did not attend. So I set down my trusty, and borderline trademark, backpack and began taking pictures of the card games and prize tables.
After a few minutes, I was approached by a man, identifying himself as the post master, who told me that I couldn't take pictures and that if any of them were published, he would file a lawsuit. The only thing he informed me that I could take pictures of were the cars going by outside.
I saw no reason why I shouldn't be able to take pictures. Every other event I have attended at a legion or community building has allowed me to take pictures. Pictures are great. They provide a visual for the details of the story. Pictures of a casino night are especially good, because people are playing games and using props like cards and dice.
I told him that I was there to give the town, the legion and the event some coverage, but he reiterated that I couldn't take any pictures, and that I could stand and watch to get my coverage.
I left the event after the confrontation. Not because I couldn't do the story without pictures, but because I shouldn't encounter such open resistance to the presence of the paper at what appeared to be a fun community event. I shouldn't be threatened with a lawsuit for taking photographs, especially without an explanation of more than, "this is a club."
The Clay County News can deal without having pictures with some of its stories. What it can't deal with is a lack of cooperation from the community that it covers. We don't have to attend these events, but we believe that our readers enjoy reading about them. Credibility and dependability are the livelihood of a newspaper. You depend on us. We depend on you.
Negative encounters stand out like sore thumbs in a community that prides itself and thrives on the values that rural Nebraska believes in. Just as we continue to earn accountability, we hope the effort is returned as it so often is. We are here to serve you and we appreciate your help.
NB: i didn't call him an "asshole" in the column. though i very well could have. and i tried to err on the side of "help me help you" a la jerry maguire.
NB2: i'll be in fairfield for another fundraiser on saturday. if anybody actually reads my column, this could get interesting. hopefully..
Less than 24 hours after I arrived in Clay County Nebraska, I was on assignment covering Fairfield's Christmas festivities. Complete with first job/first assignment/alone in a new place jitters, I covered the event with a hesitancy, but soon realized that an uncomfortable approach was not only not necessary, but that everyone there was more than happy to help and to talk.
I'm used to a friendly community, relatively speaking, as I was born and raised in what we call a small town in southern Maine, which, for the most part, possesses a pleasant demeanor. I then moved to North Carolina for college, where I received a dose of the southern hospitality and first encountered the "hello"s and waves from the random passerby.
Still, the generosity and comforting conversations that have characterized the area for me have been far more sincere and universal than anything I've previously experienced. On nearly every assignment since that first one, people have continued to be helpful. They always seem extremely appreciative to see someone from the paper at their event, thanking me for the coverage.
And I've come to expect that from the community when I go out on assignment now. Not just because I know people are friendly and enjoy having publicity, but because that's the spirit of a community newspaper. Whereas the industry as a whole is declining in the face of new media, the "community journalism" has weathered the storm.
Consumers can get their news from anywhere these days. By picking up a larger, daily newspaper or turning on the television or browsing the internet, news is literally at your fingertips anytime you want it. What you can't find in these places are the stories of the people and events that make a community what it is.
Just as you depend upon your local newspaper to bring you the news of the area, so does the paper depend on your support to operate and serve you. And up until this past weekend, such mutual cooperation was something I had encountered on a daily basis, which made the following that much more surprising and upsetting.
On Saturday night I found myself back in Fairfield for the town's "Casino Night." Like all such community fundraiser events, I expected people to be having a good time, and I expected to have a good story to present to the public who did not attend. So I set down my trusty, and borderline trademark, backpack and began taking pictures of the card games and prize tables.
After a few minutes, I was approached by a man, identifying himself as the post master, who told me that I couldn't take pictures and that if any of them were published, he would file a lawsuit. The only thing he informed me that I could take pictures of were the cars going by outside.
I saw no reason why I shouldn't be able to take pictures. Every other event I have attended at a legion or community building has allowed me to take pictures. Pictures are great. They provide a visual for the details of the story. Pictures of a casino night are especially good, because people are playing games and using props like cards and dice.
I told him that I was there to give the town, the legion and the event some coverage, but he reiterated that I couldn't take any pictures, and that I could stand and watch to get my coverage.
I left the event after the confrontation. Not because I couldn't do the story without pictures, but because I shouldn't encounter such open resistance to the presence of the paper at what appeared to be a fun community event. I shouldn't be threatened with a lawsuit for taking photographs, especially without an explanation of more than, "this is a club."
The Clay County News can deal without having pictures with some of its stories. What it can't deal with is a lack of cooperation from the community that it covers. We don't have to attend these events, but we believe that our readers enjoy reading about them. Credibility and dependability are the livelihood of a newspaper. You depend on us. We depend on you.
Negative encounters stand out like sore thumbs in a community that prides itself and thrives on the values that rural Nebraska believes in. Just as we continue to earn accountability, we hope the effort is returned as it so often is. We are here to serve you and we appreciate your help.
NB: i didn't call him an "asshole" in the column. though i very well could have. and i tried to err on the side of "help me help you" a la jerry maguire.
NB2: i'll be in fairfield for another fundraiser on saturday. if anybody actually reads my column, this could get interesting. hopefully..
Saturday, February 21, 2009
i sense my first nasty editorial coming on
so tonight i leave one event to head to another, a "casino night" in fairfield, which had been rescheduled due to snow last friday. fairfield is one of the town's that we don't always get news from, so this was an opportunity to get a story from there. plus, casino = games = winning = good pictures. might not be more than a quick recap of the evening, but it would at least be content and would provide a couple of good photos to go with it. so i thought..
i get there a little after everything was underway, since i was coming from another event, but i set down my stuff and took out my camera. i snapped a few pictures of the black jack games, the craps table, the overall "casino" room and the prize table. at one point a woman came up and joked, "you know you can't take pictures in a casino, right?" i said something to the effect of, "you're not going to smash my camera are you?" she laughed. i laughed. i continued to take pictures.
a couple minutes later, a guy comes up and says, "are you from the newspaper?" i said, "yeah, i'm with the clay county news." he says, "you can't take pictures in here." i think, what is this going to be the joke of the night? ok, i'll play along. i use my line again. "are you going to smash my camera?" he doesn't laugh. or smile. he says, "well, how many pictures did you take?" "i dunno.. a few." [i'm still trying to figure out his sense of humor and how far he plans to take this joke..] "if any of those pictures are in the newspaper, you can expect a lawsuit."
WHAT?!
"you're serious.. i can't take pictures?" dead serious, "no." "why can't i take pictures?" "this is a club. i'm the post manager." it's obvious at this point that he is in fact serious. i aparently cannot take pictures at this event. "i'm just trying to give you some coverage," i tell him politely. "well, you can stand around and watch, get your coverage that way." "ok. that's fine. can i take pictures of anything?" "you can stand outside and take pictures of the cars going by." REALLY?! THE CARS GOING BY?! ARE YOU KIDDING?! "alright, great," i say or something to that effect to where the conversation ends. he walks away.
let me reiterate. this was a fundraiser for the american legion. a night of community fun and generosity. and this guy was an asshole.
at this point i'm thinking, for that, i'm not even going to do anything for this event. won't even mention it. since that was the guy i would normally talk to for information about the event, i say screw it, don't ask anyone any questions about the event and get ready to leave. then i see the "post master" wave me over to his table. was he going to tell me he was kidding? is his sense of humor so terrible that he took the joke that far with a poor payoff? impossible. instead, he points to the wall behind him where there are rows of pictures. he tells me, "you can take a picture of that. i've been working on it for three years. it's pictures of people who were from the community." you're. effing. kidding. now you're suggesting a story idea for me? not how it works. "i'm like, yeah, maybe later when it's not so crowded..." [i'll admit. this would, under other circumstances, have been a story i probably would have looked into.] instead, i took off out the door where i didn't have to walk by him.
it might be time for an editorial. something like this: at every event i have done, everyone has been more than willing to cooperate. everyone has been truely thankful and happy that i have come and given them coverage. and now, at an event that our readers whould enjoy reading about, i'm confronted for taking pictures and threatened with a lawsuit if i do.
maybe i'm overreacting, but i don't think so. i could have done without the attitude. and if there's a legitimate reason as to why taking pictures was worth that reaction, then i apologize. but until such reason is brought to my attention, i'm bitter. and i no longer like fairfield.
i get there a little after everything was underway, since i was coming from another event, but i set down my stuff and took out my camera. i snapped a few pictures of the black jack games, the craps table, the overall "casino" room and the prize table. at one point a woman came up and joked, "you know you can't take pictures in a casino, right?" i said something to the effect of, "you're not going to smash my camera are you?" she laughed. i laughed. i continued to take pictures.
a couple minutes later, a guy comes up and says, "are you from the newspaper?" i said, "yeah, i'm with the clay county news." he says, "you can't take pictures in here." i think, what is this going to be the joke of the night? ok, i'll play along. i use my line again. "are you going to smash my camera?" he doesn't laugh. or smile. he says, "well, how many pictures did you take?" "i dunno.. a few." [i'm still trying to figure out his sense of humor and how far he plans to take this joke..] "if any of those pictures are in the newspaper, you can expect a lawsuit."
WHAT?!
"you're serious.. i can't take pictures?" dead serious, "no." "why can't i take pictures?" "this is a club. i'm the post manager." it's obvious at this point that he is in fact serious. i aparently cannot take pictures at this event. "i'm just trying to give you some coverage," i tell him politely. "well, you can stand around and watch, get your coverage that way." "ok. that's fine. can i take pictures of anything?" "you can stand outside and take pictures of the cars going by." REALLY?! THE CARS GOING BY?! ARE YOU KIDDING?! "alright, great," i say or something to that effect to where the conversation ends. he walks away.
let me reiterate. this was a fundraiser for the american legion. a night of community fun and generosity. and this guy was an asshole.
at this point i'm thinking, for that, i'm not even going to do anything for this event. won't even mention it. since that was the guy i would normally talk to for information about the event, i say screw it, don't ask anyone any questions about the event and get ready to leave. then i see the "post master" wave me over to his table. was he going to tell me he was kidding? is his sense of humor so terrible that he took the joke that far with a poor payoff? impossible. instead, he points to the wall behind him where there are rows of pictures. he tells me, "you can take a picture of that. i've been working on it for three years. it's pictures of people who were from the community." you're. effing. kidding. now you're suggesting a story idea for me? not how it works. "i'm like, yeah, maybe later when it's not so crowded..." [i'll admit. this would, under other circumstances, have been a story i probably would have looked into.] instead, i took off out the door where i didn't have to walk by him.
it might be time for an editorial. something like this: at every event i have done, everyone has been more than willing to cooperate. everyone has been truely thankful and happy that i have come and given them coverage. and now, at an event that our readers whould enjoy reading about, i'm confronted for taking pictures and threatened with a lawsuit if i do.
maybe i'm overreacting, but i don't think so. i could have done without the attitude. and if there's a legitimate reason as to why taking pictures was worth that reaction, then i apologize. but until such reason is brought to my attention, i'm bitter. and i no longer like fairfield.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
for uncle wayne
i got a phone call from papa yesterday, informing me that he had just spoken with my uncle wayne, who wanted to know why i haven't been posting anything here lately. no good reason, wayne. no good reason. just a little busy is all. but here you go.
again, tuesday night turned into about a 15 hour work day. and again, we ask "how does this happen?" it's a vicious cycle. i get so burned out after monday and tuesday that i need a down day, which doesn't allow me to get ahead with work. on top of that everything seems to happen late in our publishing week, which backs everything else up. which means i am unable to start laying out pages until tuesday afternoon. which in turn adds to the stress and ensures a late night. [this is the last time i will complain about this.]
darren and cassie are gone until sunday for the state wrestling tournament in omaha. four kids from sutton qualified (one with a legitimate shot at the championship for his weight class as a freshman) and a few others from the county made it as well. darren said he's going to shoot some video at the meet, so i'll hopefully be able to work with that footage and stream something to our website [which is so far outdated and in need of a pick-me-up.]
i'm covering a basketball game tonight in mccool junction [front-runner for the coolest town name ever.] heard there's a good prime rib place there, so i think i'm gonna grab a bite to eat there before hand. besides subway, i've only gone out to eat once since i've been here. then again, there's only one diner-esque place in town to eat. options are limited, unless i want to drive half an hour. but to drive that far to go out to eat by myself isn't all that appealing. i prefer my home cooked concoctions which i can enjoy in hermit mode.
more to come. i promise..
again, tuesday night turned into about a 15 hour work day. and again, we ask "how does this happen?" it's a vicious cycle. i get so burned out after monday and tuesday that i need a down day, which doesn't allow me to get ahead with work. on top of that everything seems to happen late in our publishing week, which backs everything else up. which means i am unable to start laying out pages until tuesday afternoon. which in turn adds to the stress and ensures a late night. [this is the last time i will complain about this.]
darren and cassie are gone until sunday for the state wrestling tournament in omaha. four kids from sutton qualified (one with a legitimate shot at the championship for his weight class as a freshman) and a few others from the county made it as well. darren said he's going to shoot some video at the meet, so i'll hopefully be able to work with that footage and stream something to our website [which is so far outdated and in need of a pick-me-up.]
i'm covering a basketball game tonight in mccool junction [front-runner for the coolest town name ever.] heard there's a good prime rib place there, so i think i'm gonna grab a bite to eat there before hand. besides subway, i've only gone out to eat once since i've been here. then again, there's only one diner-esque place in town to eat. options are limited, unless i want to drive half an hour. but to drive that far to go out to eat by myself isn't all that appealing. i prefer my home cooked concoctions which i can enjoy in hermit mode.
more to come. i promise..
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
seems like wednesdays are the only days i have time to post anymore.
worked about 15 1/2 hours yesterday. that was fun. tuesdays are always long days. tuesday late afternoon/early evening is about my least favorite time of the week, because it's then that i realize that despite my thousand phone calls and event coverage, we still have so much blank space to fill.
this past work week was especially frustrating due to clay county deciding to take a break from doing anything exciting or making news. it's not fun looking at what you have for the week's stories and realizing how little room it will take up on 24 pages. to top it off, the only stories i was able to write on required saturday/sunday coverage and non-stop monday phone calls. meaning it was all but impossible to work ahead, and cemented the now certain weekly tradition of near-midnight bonding with darren over half-empty (yes, half-empty) pages.
i've been meaning to mention this since it happened, but kept forgetting:
one of the old lady friends i made while covering a couple of stories in my early weeks at the paper, karen roback, died a couple of weeks ago. i found out when her obituary was sent in. the first time i talked to her was at a christmas event at the clay county museum, where she talked to me about the tradition and the various activities they do. the second, and last, time i saw karen was at a chirstmas-sing-along at a church in inland. she came up to me and reminded me who she was, told me the christmas story turned out well and thanked me for quoting her accurately, because in the past people had mis-quoted her. then we talked about her speaking german (she sang a song in german during the event) and how learning things with music is much easier. just kind of weird to read the obituary of someone you had talked to a few times, and was one of the few familiar faces for me during the first couple of weeks.
plus side - bowling again tonight. the fox hollow studs are quickly climbing the standings. we should take over second place tonight. i've decided to wear my ghanaian shirt when i bowl from now on. it just seems like a good bowling image and it's nice and loose. and i'm gonna roll with the kevin ball tonight, too.
oh, directv's hooked up, now. so i've got my sportscenter to wake up to and my conan to pass out to. and my free showtime and whatever else in between. and i have mlb network, so once the baseball season starts, that'll be on 24/7.
worked about 15 1/2 hours yesterday. that was fun. tuesdays are always long days. tuesday late afternoon/early evening is about my least favorite time of the week, because it's then that i realize that despite my thousand phone calls and event coverage, we still have so much blank space to fill.
this past work week was especially frustrating due to clay county deciding to take a break from doing anything exciting or making news. it's not fun looking at what you have for the week's stories and realizing how little room it will take up on 24 pages. to top it off, the only stories i was able to write on required saturday/sunday coverage and non-stop monday phone calls. meaning it was all but impossible to work ahead, and cemented the now certain weekly tradition of near-midnight bonding with darren over half-empty (yes, half-empty) pages.
i've been meaning to mention this since it happened, but kept forgetting:
one of the old lady friends i made while covering a couple of stories in my early weeks at the paper, karen roback, died a couple of weeks ago. i found out when her obituary was sent in. the first time i talked to her was at a christmas event at the clay county museum, where she talked to me about the tradition and the various activities they do. the second, and last, time i saw karen was at a chirstmas-sing-along at a church in inland. she came up to me and reminded me who she was, told me the christmas story turned out well and thanked me for quoting her accurately, because in the past people had mis-quoted her. then we talked about her speaking german (she sang a song in german during the event) and how learning things with music is much easier. just kind of weird to read the obituary of someone you had talked to a few times, and was one of the few familiar faces for me during the first couple of weeks.
plus side - bowling again tonight. the fox hollow studs are quickly climbing the standings. we should take over second place tonight. i've decided to wear my ghanaian shirt when i bowl from now on. it just seems like a good bowling image and it's nice and loose. and i'm gonna roll with the kevin ball tonight, too.
oh, directv's hooked up, now. so i've got my sportscenter to wake up to and my conan to pass out to. and my free showtime and whatever else in between. and i have mlb network, so once the baseball season starts, that'll be on 24/7.
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