Dear Mr. Kasarda:
It was really nice meeting you yesterday evening during the Naturalization Ceremony. What an impression you made when you asked me, "With all the other people here, you can't find someone else to talk to?" right in front of the guy we were interviewing! How awesome! So, did you like how I went back and used him as my lede? Or was that too predictable? Because I did that just for you.
You pole-smoking, whiny bitch.
Now, I know and have worked among a ton of your colleagues, and none of them has ever behaved like a little screaming girl when I've joined them on an interview. If they have a problem with it, they at least will continue the interview and then wait for me to move on if they have super-secret questions or whatever. Usually, though, not only are they all right with it, but we help each other out with cursory information if one or the other comes in late to a meeting, for example. But hissy fits? No. They're professionals. You'd do well to ape their style.
All I can say is, be glad you work primarily in the other county, because you can rest assured that I will NEVER, EVER help you out with anything should our paths cross again.
Emphatically,
The Broad
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Below, my Pulitzer-worthy story.
Ok, not really. But it should serve as a reminder to Lake Conty politicos that the Innernet? Not as safe as you think, folks.
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There are days when you just do your job, and you do a fine job, and you go to bed satisfied. And then there are the days when you are nothing short of absolutely BRILLIANT, and you squeal with glee and do the "WHOOMP! There it IS!" dance in your chair. And today? Was one of those days.
Our County Politics reporter, JB, absconded to NYC for a weekend of drunken debauchery with his brother for the High Holiday (bastards! I've already been warned that I'm getting drunk dialed by Mer tomorrow night), so my one editor sent me out to cover a press conference by this new group that claims it's compiling data on candidates so that voters will know who they're voting for. But instead of doing that, they presented a Web site slamming the incumbent sheriff's opponent which, all right, that's par for the course. The problem was, the spokeseperson said -- nay, inSISTED -- that they weren't affiliated at all with the incumbent sheriff. So, I got a wild hair up my ass when I got home and decided that I was going to see if I could find out who the Web site was registered to. I did a whois and discovered that our site owner was trying to not be whois-ed, because s/he put bullshit information (i.e. Lake County for region, 99999 for the zip, etc.) in when s/he registered for the domain. I looked at that and thought, "Hmmmm, there's got to be a way to circumvent that. Who do I know that would know?"
That person? EWK. EWK walked me through how to do it and, well, looky there! Something miiiiiiiiiighty suspicious. So I called my editor, had her look up some information JB had on his desk, and, well, looky there! Now, what was miiiiiiiiiighty suspicious is now downright damning.
Unfortunately, I can't tell you what exactly it is, because the story isn't out yet. (I know -- awwwwwwwww!) I'll throw it up tomorrow, of course, but in the meantime, let's just say that if this "press conference" is the way the incumbent is running his campaign? He's doomed, because that was the most retarded display I think I've seen in, oh, the last three weeks.
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I'm guessing you want to know about my meeting with John the gardener.
Yeah, don't be too jealous, because it wasn't nearly as good as it could've been.
When I got to Blue Chip, I parked like a jerk in hotel parking, and security whisked me through to the crowd of at least 1,000, who were all crammed in the pavillion waiting to get in. I crawled (sometimes literally, as there were all these rope blockades all over the place) among the crabby masses to get to the press area to see the end of Bill Boyd's speech (and get my first glimpse of Jesse, who is HOTT but NOT TALL; if he 5'9, I'd be surprised). Then the PR person whisked us back to a craps table, where Jesse threw out the first dice. So we all stood there and took pictures of his hotness, then the P.R person herded all the press people back to the media room, where we had continental breakfast and waited to get a tour of the boat. Jesse, in the meantime, was NOT brought back to the media room, and we have no idea where he went. So, no Jesse and his hotness for me, which positively blows since I looked pretty damn hot yesterday, even going so far as to put on my damn suit and Tod's loafers.
Below, the shots I got of Jesse. To think I was only a craps table-length away from his beauty ...
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Serial killer David Maust hanged himself in the Lake County Jail early this morning. Some reports have him dead, while others say he's on life support.
Full report in the P-T tomorrow.
[UPDATE: Word from the desk is he apparently is dead now. Poor bastard.]
[UPDATE #2: Well now, rumor has it that Maust DIDN'T finish the job but is brain dead. Thing is, he's in a Catholic hospital, so it'll be interesting to see whether or not they pull the plug or not. Poor bastard.]
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Got to reading the whole James Frey-A Million Little Pieces controversy yesterday -- if you haven't read it, here t'is: Lookit. Well-executed, if lengthy, piece of investigating journalism. If you're not familiar and don't want to read the whole thing, here's a rundown: Frey wrote this book about his drug-, violence- and booze-addled life; it became a huge best-seller and eventually got the coveted Oprah seal of approval. Thing is, there were several passages that fell into the whole "if it seems too unreal, it probably is" scenario, so TSG investigated. The verdict? About the only thing they could prove true was that Frey spent time at Hazelden. According to its account, Frey even admitted to TSG (off the record, natch) that a lot of the stuff was written with dramatic license, even though to the outside world, he pimps it all as 1 million percent true.
Well, after Frey figured out that the TSG homies were sitting on his funeral pyre with a blowtorch, he freaked and sicced his lawyer on them, and then like a big dumbass posted on his Web site TSG's response to him -- which enumerates their off-the-record conversation in detail -- on his Web site, effectively ruining any defense he had about keeping stuff "off the record" in the first place. What posessed him to do that, I don't know -- perhaps he thinks because all these people bought the book and therefore bought into the lie, they won't buy stone-cold evidence.
But I digress.
I wish I would've watched Frey's Larry King interview last night, because according to AP, l'Oprah called in and stood by him, saying the only relevant point on which the masses should focus is that Frey was a drug addict who overcame his drug addictness. NOT that he wholesale fabricated or embellished to the nth degree THE ENTIRE BOOK and claims it's his life song-and-verse, but that he's a survivor.
I don't know how it is that I keep being amazed by the lengths in which people will go to protect their almighty dinero, but Jesus Christ, man! I mean, if it was mere getting facts wrong or that he pimped it as a work of fiction like he originally tried (but publishing houses wouldn't touch with a 10-foot pole), that's one thing. But HE LIED. How could Oprah think it's a good thing to come out and support this guy!?? Is she screwing him or something? Because that's insane.
If you got the time, read TSG's report -- especially the part about how he took credit for a fatal accident in which he WAS NOT INVOLVED EVER. Un.real.
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Is it entirely too cynical of me to think that, as I watched this group of kids at a school board meeting defend a program that's undergone big funding cuts, that they were just dorks looking for a place to belong*!?? Or am I merely observing the fact that of all people under the age, say, 18, one-millionth of a percent of them aren't completely socially retarded!??
Wait ... what!??<
Just checked the competition's Web site before hitting the sack, and what do you know!?? It's going to have an interview with the guvner about his refusal to give out STIFs for retail.
Hmmph.
Oh, no, that's perfectly cool -- especially when the story they use to introduce it was a story I did several months ago on how sporting goods chain Gander Mountain has been actively campaigning to keep states from giving STIFs when it never asked for nor received that incentive. Even funnier, SO DID THE COMPETITION. So now, it's repeating itself to catch up. And sure, the editors over there may have had the interview planned all along. It still doesn't excuse repeating a story as if it's a first-run.
Man, I would've hated to be the reporter who biffed it originally. Ooof. And I like her, too.
Incidentally, I was talking to a source of mine about STIFs today, and he brought up an interesting point: Daniels and the IEDC don't want to give STIF for retail because it's not bringing in new money to the state, just shifting it around. And that's cool. There's only one problem: STIFs are good only when there's sales tax to be had, and retail is the only industry that generates it (at least to the degree it needs to make it work, anyway; I'm not sure how much sales tax is generated by manufacturing, for example).
Now, I didn't necessarily have a problem with granting STIFs for retail, because (after the way it works was explained to me for the fifth or sixth time before I understood it) it's a good economic development vehicle, and one that Lake County could use. The problem I have with it is that now that there's a Cabela's planned for Hoffman Estates, Ill., which is no more than two hours from NWI on a good day, and other sporting behemoth Bass Pro Shop planned for Portage -- not to mention a Cabela's in Milwaukee already, which is about three hours from here -- you've just saturated the market, and one of them is going to choke, taking with it at least some of the 300 to 400 jobs they promised to bring. One only has to look at Krispy Kreme to see that; when we got the one in Schererville, everyone was all apeshit over it (with good reason, of course, because mmmmm ... Krispy Kreme ...). But then Krispy Kreme went into uber expansion mode, and now, I can get one at the gas station up the street. True, I'm not getting my free hot doughnut when I run to Speedway, but the ones I buy from the Krispy Kreme to take home aren't warm and gooey, either, so what's my impetus to drive 15 minutes anymore?
Damn. Now I want a doughnut.
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Our guvner comes out and says we're not giving the incentive NWI needs to bring the alleged economic savior on our trodden ground, and you're hyped up over unfunded liability!??
Homie, where's the love!??
Even better: The competition, which has spent inches and inches of ink devoted to wooing Cabela's so that it'll maybe advertise with them if it comes to towncovering Cabela's DIDN'T EVEN MENTION THE NEWS IN ITS STORY. I LOVE when that happens. Sigh.
After the jump, my work of staggering news acumen:
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Looked at my stats today, and I see that someone has looked up he of the overfed mop-top eight times in the last how many days since Jan. 1. Once again, it begs the question:
Why!??
What could you possibly want to know about him!?? Because then whoever's doing it comes here and never asks any questions. It's still creeping me out, man.
Got to cover our esteemed guvner's visit to NWI tonight at the Horseshoe Casino and got a fantastic story out of it that my fabulous chum Chris will no doubt post at his crib (ahem) and then pimp it out at the Indiana Blog Review as the answer to the $64 million question: Will Hammond, Cabela's get STIF* from Mitch!??
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Seems I can't go anywhere anymore without someone whining to my editors about it: I was covering a Lake Station Council meeting the other night, and it was running rather long. What do I mean by long? It started at 6 p.m., and when I left at 10 p.m., THERE WERE STILL TWO ITEMS ON THE AGENDA. Well, as I left (and I'm sure shortly before while I was sitting there), I let out more than a few disgusted sighs in protest. And a couple people who my editor swore she wouldn't divulge (though I bet I know who they are) called to complain that my behavior was "inappropriate."
Hmmph.
First of all, my editor and I laughed about it before I promised to refrain from showing my disgust at meetings, so please don't think that calling them will get me in trouble; in fact, if anyone details my behavior to them, it's usually ME, so really, you're just wasting your breath. But let's look, shall we, at the councilmen's behavior for a moment -- is it really appropriate for them to call a 35-minute recess during a meeting already in progress so that two of them can go to another meeting that they said was going to take only 15 minutes!?? Is it also fair of them to belabor a point for 10, 15 minutes on the money for the park equipment during the meeting, when they could, oh, I don't know, wait until it's been adjourned!?? Keep in mind, folks, that I wasn't the only person waiting for them to finish the hell up -- hell, the mayor herself left at 9:45 p.m. because she's diabetic and had to get something to eat. And let's not forget when one of the councilmen asked the council president to explain something he'd said and he, out of frustration with having to repeat for the fifth or sixth time, told her to "get the cotton out of her ears" right there in front of the public. But they're going to complain about me expressing my disgust!?? Ooooooo-kaaaaay. You do that.
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So late Friday afternoon, as I was trying to get my other two stories in the bag for the night, my one editor calls me and tells me we got an anonymous letter faxed to us, could I do the requisite calling on it? Of course, I said, even though it would entail contacting our venerable tourism deity. The letter was written by Speros to a marketing guy for AM-890 WLS thanking him for the opportunity, but no, the Lake County Convention and Visitors Bureau will NOT be participating in any promotions with WLS, the Gary/Chicago International Airport and Hooters Air, because it's the LCCVB's position to bring people TO NWI, not take them out. That's a reasonable position, I think to myself, even after he scoldedasked me as to why I even thought it was a story -- which, as I've mentioned before, is, like, the No. 1 way to get on my shitlist. Why do I think it's a story? Oh, I don't know: a) you're killing funding on efforts to promote NWI and b) my editor says so.
Jackass.
The problem is, Speros didn't find it necessary to discuss this with Airport Administrator Paul Karas or Marketing Director Denise Williams; when I called Karas for his take, he was quite unhappy, not to mention completely blindsided by the decision. To wit:
(A direct quote that made the paper and everything. That? Totally made my week, I'll have you know.)
You know how everyone who's anyone in NWI has been talking about unity and working together toward a common goal and all that for like, oh, the past 30 years or so? This would've been a great time to embrace that concept. I mean, yeah, I get it that NWI in the middle of winter when there's snow on the ground and butt-cold temperatures likely isn't one's idea of paradise, so promoting it to a market that's surrounded in sunshine might not be intuitive at first glance. But I thought the whole purpose of marketing the airport was to get people to USE THE AIRPORT, regardless of whether people are coming to hang out in the stellar NWI nightlife OR to come visit relatives, of which many people living in St. Petersburg or Vegas have here. If they're using the airport and find that it's a gem -- and it really, truly is -- does it matter what people are using it for? And that's not even getting into Speros' presumptuousness in making that call without even running it past the airport in the first place. Suppose he brought his concerns to Karas or Williams before he withdrew the money (and I don't know how much money it is, because I wasn't able to get a hold of the WLS guy) -- is it unreasonable to think that perhaps the three of them could've come to a solution that would've addressed everyone's concerns? The three of them are smart people -- I'm sure they could've worked something out.
I repeat: Lake County, and its taxpayers, are paying this clown THE HIGHEST SALARY IN THE COUNTY for this kind of wit and wisdom.
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to completely and derisively roll her eyes at the competition's one columnist who, when writing a column about a hit-and-run accident where the perp hasn't turned themselves in yet, calls up a Camus story?
Good God, man. Get over yourself.
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Found out yesterday that the best part of the ball happened just as I was making the mad dash to my car.
Each year, the chamber gives out "of the Year" awards to cops, paramedics and firefighters, and the dude who took over the Lake County Convention and Visitors Bureau, Speros Batistatos, was chosen to hand out the firefighter awards, right? Well, I'm told by several people that as ol' Speros took the stage to annouce the recipients, he scolded attendees who were still browsing at the silent auction table to sit down and that "wasn't going to tell (them) again"; after all, these men deserved everyones' full attention. That's right: He got up on stage with a microphone and scolded grown men and women to sit down. Needless to say, the grown-ups didn't take too kindly to being scolded at an event for which they paid $100 per couple.
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Got scooped on a story I covered over the summer. Bleh.
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Dang, what is UP with all the spam I'm getting!?? Do you know that one of them used MY OWN WEB ADDRESS, so when I went to de-spam, it was added to the MT spammer jerk clearinghouse!?? Bastards. I guess after the holidays, I'm going to have to ditch the bitch and make the switch to EE after all.
In the story I wrote yesterday, the speaker (Rudy Lopez, a pal o'mine) made the comment, "They think that just because the candidate's name ends in -ez, every rice and bean eater is going to come out and vote for them." I asked Rudy if I could quote him on that, and he said "Yeah." So I wonder why the copy desk cut out that part?*
Tonight is the Merrillville Town Ball, and once again I get to cover it for an hour before I have to split to make deadline. This year's ensemble? A black suit I bought last night when Tara and I had a total girls' night of shopping and eating out. I'll post pics.
Speaking of shopping, how wrong is it that I don't completely hate Britney's "Fantasy" perfume? It smells just like cotton candy.
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Guess who I'm going to be seeing, if not meeting, on Tuesday?
No, seriously. Take a guess.
(Big hint: He tends to make bizarre analogies as he's giving advice ...)
Indeed, it would be the man himself, Dr. Freakin' PHIL.
Yeah, he's totally doing a mall tour of Chicagoland, and he's coming to our neck of the woods, and the paper wants ME to cover it! How cool is THAT!?! Of course, they also said I couldn't ask him advice on how to deal with Mother, but what other advice would he possibly give me other than shooting her and dumping her cold, dead remains in the Cal Sag*?
See, y'all with your 401Ks and health insurance -- that's fine for you fancy people. I on the other hand, get to meet Dr. Phil. How you like me NOW!?!
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So yesterday brought the end to a case that I had been following for the past year, year and half, and while I wish it had ended differently, I can totally understand and appreciate why they settled.
Y'all recall me bitching about the Town of Schererville, right? Well, among all the other crap, a former employee -- the only woman in the Public Works department -- sued it in the fed for sexual harassment and discrimination. Sounds like a stereotype, right? Yeah, except the woman had NINE YEARS OF EVIDENCE against these bastards -- signed depositions, pictures, journals, you name it. And then after the suit was filed, the town fired her. (Yes, Indiana is an at-will state, but the reasons they cited for her firing were dubious at best.) Anyway, so as the parties were waiting for summary judgment, they attempted to settle, with the town lowballing so bad, it was cute; I mean, they fuckin' fired her after systematically harassing her for nine years, and they're going start the bidding at $20K!??! Please. All she ever wanted was her job back and for them to leave her the hell alone.
Well, last week, the offer reached $85K just as she and her husband won summary judgment on most counts, but then the town said at the pretrial yesterday that it would file a motion saying if she won any less than $85K from the jury, she would be responsible for paying the town's court prep costs -- and the judge said he would grant it. He also told them at the hearing that while he was sure they had a case and was perfectly ready to hear it, they were taking a tremendous gamble; he's heard cases that he was SURE would come back with a just award that came back with a big fat nothing. Long story short, they decided to settle, which in the big picture, I don't blame them. But I SO wanted her to bring those assholes to their KNEES, because they're a shitty bunch who've been abusing the town and the taxpayers for years. Not that this decision doesn't, necessarily, because it's the second time in two years that the town has had to settle a wrongful dismissal case against an employee, and the attorney fees the taxpayers are still paying, and going to pay, are astronomical. But me, I'm all about the humiliation factor -- especially since it was the fucking town attorney who was behind the majority of the decisions in handling both cases. The guy's a nimrod.
Which brings me to why I'm pissed: After calling the attorney who would've TRIED the case and being told that she was referring all inquiries to the town attorney (she's the attorney for the liability insurance), I called Nimrod, and he said the town would be issuing a release "shortly" after first playing dumb as to what I was asking about (jackass), and then asking me how I heard about it already (keeping in mind there's NO GAG ON IT, so the parties could scream it from the rooftops). Well, that release never came to the office, and it sure didn't come to my e-mail, so my story probably looks one-sided, which doesn't bother me since I know what went down, and he's just being a jerk. But a "release" means the town issued it to the competition, too, depriving me of my "scoop." THAT irritates me.
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Remember my story on the "gross-out" game last week? The verdict was handed down last night, and I was there. The story and my thoughts after the jump.
Wait ... what!??<
This was the story I covered yesterday afternoon. Does it go without saying that I was absolutely turning GREEN in the courtroom!?!? Note: The final version wasn't posted on the Web site today, so this is my hard copy. I'm guessing not much changed, however.
Wait ... what!??<
Unfortunately, that's all I can give you right now, but it's a direct quote, and I can assure y'all that it wasn't supposed to come out that way.
Tipped a couple with Wad this evening before my night assignment -- well, HE tipped a couple while I stuck with water because a) I was on my way to an assignment where the paper's publisher was going to be, and b) I'm broke as a joke until Thursday, and I'm already into a ton of cash to Wad as it is. Anyway, ask him to tell y'all about Cajun Teriyaki chicken. Go on, ask him! He wants you to.
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Got an e-mail from one of my editors yesterday with a story tip: A woman called in to tell us her daughter had been assaulted, can we do a story on it? My first reaction was, "Ooooof, that's rough," and my editor said that if there was a police report, of course it's a story.
Well, there's a story, all right. Yes, it most definitely did happen ... in another state several years ago. And therein lies the rub.
I always hate doing the dead stories or the people-got-really-fucked-up-at-the-hands-of-others stories -- not because they're not worthy, but it's monumentally tough to talk to people when their emotions are so raw and exposed. You're convinced they don't really want to talk, and you're worried about saying the wrong thing. But I do them when asked, and I do an all right job of it, I think. But what do you do when there's a family in immense pain, but the story isn't germain to the readership? On one hand, it's not "news," at least as far as the public's concerned. And yet ...
Like I told the editor, "I'm really kinda glad I'm not the one making the decision."
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I was dying to tell y'all about this yesterday, but I couldn't since it didn't run until today. Living proof that I have the best job in the universe at times. (Since we didn't update the paper's Web site last night, the stuff in brackets are edits I suspect were made.)
No, I didn't get to see any of the, ahem, merchandise, but is it necessary for me to tell you that I basically choked on my own tongue trying not to laugh while I interviewed the GM?
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Anyone been following the Jeff Gannon/Jim Guckert/White House debacle? What I want to know is, how is this different from Bill and Monica in terms of hurting the country's credibility? When it comes down to it, all Bill and Monica ultimately did was hurt themselves (and, of course, Hillary and Chelsea). This jackass, on the other hand, put into question the White House's whole press set-up -- giving it an air of dishonesty worse than it already has -- PLUS he's gay, which, you know, we're not supposed to like. So lessee here, a oversexed lothario diddling some chippy just like many other politicos in all parts of the great US of A and the world, for that matter vs. a political plant in the press corps purposely allowed to pimp one side of the coin
So please, someone spell it out for me: How is it different, other than it's your candidate's policies getting scrutinized? Oh, and if you're going to tell me that Kos, Aravosis and their ranks violated this 'mo's privacy, stick it up your ass; nothing was done that the right wouldn't have if the tables were turned.
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You know what I hate? Reading something half-ass and then shooting my mouth off.
I was reading a link over on Romenesko about the layoff at the competition -- of which one of the people affected, if you haven't been paying attention to the comments, is one of my oldest and dearest friends -- which I read to say only laid off six people. So I, in my indignation, shoot an e-mail to Romenesko saying this pub got it all wrong and that there were certainly more. Well, he being the consumate reporter, politely asked if it was more than six in the newsroom or the whole operation, which prompted me to go back and really read the article. Yup, all the information was there -- I just didn't catch it the first time around.
Yeah, nothing like making a jerk of myself. At least I told him to not publish my e-mail.
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Do you suppose it's a bad thing that a story I wrote on a sex offender program has now been posted on a sex offender bulletin board!?!?! WITH MY E-MAIL ATTACHED!?!?!?
Just curious.
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Pal, lemme tell you something: I understand that you're upset and you need to take care of your deal. But insulting my capabilities is neither going to help your situation, nor is it going to gain you an ally in me. Jackass.*
That is all.
*This is what I wish I could've said in response to something about which I can't be more specific out here in the internetwebnetwork. Those who know, know.
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No, you big pervs, that's not what it looks like. It is, however, an example of what happens when a reporter decides to rely on phonetic spelling and the desk doesn't question it. (Legend has it that editors are supposed to be able to look at a hed or sentence, and if they can get a double entendre out of it -- even if the hed's, like, "The dog is dead" -- it must change. Don't laugh; that's an important talent to have.) No, that reporter was NOT me, thankyouverymuch (and God); I may not know nothin' about no assburger syndrome, but I'm quite familiar with APSBERGER syndrome; it mimicks autism, but not really. Anyhoo, I can't believe Tara FORGOT TO TELL ME THAT ONE, because I would DIE if I were the reporter who fucked that one up. Literally curl up and die. Fer real. I feel for ya, pal.
Wait ... what!??<
Here's some bullshit for y'all -- I have a friend who worked at our Competition. I say "worked" because today? He got fired. Would you like to know why he got fired? I tell you why: He spoke his opinion about his workplace on a bbs, and some smacked ass at his place of work ratted him out, that's why. In other words, the practice of doocing? Alive and well in NWI.
Now, I know y'all are going to say that if he were going to air his opinions about his workplace, he should've never put 'em in writing or, worse, on the Innernet, and I can appreciate that. That being said, unless an employee signs some sort of Oprah agreement that says "You ain't talking about here," I don't believe a company has a right to fire you for shooting your mouth off -- you know, because of that pesky little thing called the First Amendment and all. The competition evidently knows that, too, because you know what reason they gave for firing him? "Oh, well, your rant on the bbs was factually incorrect, so how do we know your stories/columns aren't incorrect as well!?!?" What, because you (the competition) don't like hearing that you run a shithole environment!?!?! Yeah, I call "bullshit" too. We're reporters -- that's what we do, or have you forgotten your mission while you're trying to rake in the dough that your employees will never see!?!?
Well, the competition's loss is someone else's gain, because I have no doubt he'll be picked up by someone or, even better, he'll be syndicated, and the competition will have to eat it. In the meantime, I hope Romenesko and Miner get a hold of it, and put some shame into those assholes.
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Remember that one story I was doing a pee pee dance of joy about? No not the one, the other one? A hint can be found below (and no telling, TIMMY!):
Wait ... what!??<
Because of my quick thinking, I now saved the biz section from an all-AP day! You may all now bow at my feet, for my journalistic acumen is unsurpassed.
Heh. Yeah, I'm funny like that, but I did have the foresight to call the Griffith Town Council regarding Frank's Nursery & Craft's going-out-of-business, which took them by surprise AND garnered a "That's good," from the M.E., because where Frank's is located in Griffith is already struggling pretty badly with trying to get new business in there.
What can I say? I'm kinda quick sometimes. Must've been the spicy chicken burrito.
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Or at least some new end tables or something: With Greta getting all kinds of cool antique furniture from Customs in Miller and Tara talking about all the horrors of house hunting, I'm getting this weird urge to own property. It's not going to happen for, like, EVER, and it's not that I really want to move from my present crib, because I like my present crib, and it's convenient for my travels. Perhaps I can talk the landlords into going condo, or at least letting me paint the place anything but freakin' white.
Meanwhile, I'm about to break a story tomorrow that's going to have a certain muni on its KNEES, and I. can't. WAIT. (Get ready, Ogger, because things may never be the same.) It's a lock, too; have the proof and everything, unlike the other story I was so jazzed about. That one hasn't panned out ... yet. But I of course will post this one once it's been published.
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Had another tip last night that I hope hope HOPE pans out, because this one's excellent. I'm not working on it, though -- another reporter is. Still, it's funny as hell, and I'll share as soon as I can.
In the meantime, this weekend's the Gary Air Show, and I'm covering parking lot detail. Not the sexiest thing in the world, but I'll still get to see the show, which I've never been. Plus, I was offered a chance at going up in one of the planes today when I was out there covering another Air Show story, but I couldn't in the time they had open, and really, since I'm not writing specifically about going up in a plane, I thought it would be slightly tacky to take advantage. Besides, I didn't want to have anyone report about the reporter who barfed on the pilot because she freaks out about moving heights, compelling though it may be. (Oh yeah, it's true. I do. NOT. do. fast moving high things well. At all.)
Later, I'll complain about the one guy and perhaps list every concert I've ever attended, just because it's been on my mind as something to write about.
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Anyone who's read my other site or is familiar with stuff I've written knows that I'm in love with AVMRA, aka the American Veteran Motorcycle Riders Association. The group is just like it sounds: vets -- the majority of whom fought in Vietnam -- who ride motorcycles. And they're a raggedy-looking bunch of motherfuckers, they'd be the first to tell you: Long, ratty hair; beaten-up leather with patches and pins; at-least-two-packs-a-day habits. Instead of the booze they once were able to drown their sorrows with, they down coffee, lots of it. Or they keep pickling their insides away, as if that's going to help. It doesn't, but it's a connection to other people who've gone through hell, anyway.
Tonight, my assignment was to cover the memorial of a soldier who was killed over in Iraq Sunday. There were at least 100 people there by the war tank on the corner of Broad and Oak, including 30 or so of my AVMRA men and women. (Every single war-themed event, good or bad, without fail, you better believe there will be representatives from their group.) There was a service, with a Catholic Bishop and everything, as well as a Color Guard from the local Legion and VFW.
I've covered enough of these to be able to pretty much get by without getting emotional, and I pride myself on that. But as the old vets with the rifles shot off the 21-gun salute, damn it if those rag-tag shells of men in beaten-up leather didn't stand straight as arrows, saluting their flag as if they were the kids they used to be before the war beat them down.
And damn it if I didn't choke up.
<
So today, I get a e-mail from the chick who's filling in for one of the editors I write for, telling me I need to contact her about a story I did. It was a meeting story, nothing earth-shattering ... or so I thought, because attached to her e-mail is the story the competition did from the same meeting. Now, I don't know where the other reporter got her information -- if she'd gotten tipped off to the thing prior to the meeing or, because she covers this particular beat regularly, she knew what to ask -- but there was NOTHING discussed in that meeting that would have led me to what she had.
Luckily, our reporter, doll that she is, did some folo-up on it and found that what the competition had was true, but it wasn't what they made it sound like. So THERE, competition. If you feel you have to blow things out of proportion to best me, party on. But that's why you work for them and not us. Pppppphhhhhbbbbbt.
Say it with me now: We take our victories where we can.
<
I must've said this 10 times today, but I'll say it again:
Adrian Zakula is the only person I know that could take a freedom-of-expression controversy and turn it into a beer party.
I'm using his name now because I reported on the story, plus he has absolutely no shame. Not that he needed it ... this time (!), but it's safe to say that our friend Zook, in true Zook fashion, is thoroughly enjoying his time in the spotlight and was goodly plowed by 2 p.m. (Yeah, because I wasn't of course. Heh. And boy, did that feel good! A sunny, 60-degree day pounding a few among friends after I've done my reporting? You betcha. I can't tell you the last time I was out among the living doing stuff other than working or shopping with Greta. Methinks I need to do more of that more often.)
Really, though, I don't know that I wouldn't have done the same thing -- no, scratch that; I know I would've. See, way back in the day, I had a bit of controversy myself with the whole freedom of speech/expression issue.
<
Most mornings after I wake up, pee and feed the boys, I start my day by jumping online and checking to see if any of my stories made it to the paper's Web site, and then I check the competition to see if whoever was there from them wrote the story better than I did. So, I'm perusing the competition today and I see the headline "Controversial sign in Hobart to be removed." And immediately I froze, because I just knew that somehow, someway, one of the one guy's idiot friends was involved. Sure enough, I wasn't wrong.
Wait ... what!??<
Another thing I'm really not supposed to do as a reporter is be a mouthpiece for products, because that shows bias, implies impropriety, blah blah blah and so and so forth. Well, since I a) already wrote the story, and b) made no secret of accepting the case of potato chips given to me because I went straight into the office and shared it, I have absolutely no compunction in saying what I'm about to say:
BUY PEERLESS POTATO CHIPS!
<
Today, the New York Post published a picture of a woman jumping to her death off a 24-story building.
You know, I could understand publishing the pictures of people jumping out of the Twin Towers, because I'd like to think that they did what they did out of hope that someone somehow would save them. But to capture someone's pain like that and broadcast it to the world? That's not even art, for Chrissake.
(Link courtesy of Romenesko.)
<
As if my normal anxieties about money and feeding myself haven't been weighing on me enough, they've been furthered by the harrowing tale of Dooce, who, if you're not reading her, you need to, because she's freakin' hilarious. But long story short, she got canned from her job because of her personal blog.
Wait ... what!??<
More from my pal:
I am being lobbied (and pestered to death) heavily by Deborah Mell (Alderman Mells daughter, Governor Blagojevich sister in-law) to get everyone and anyone to come out to the NBC's Today show in support of Gay and Lesbians having the right to marry! Katie Couric and clan will be here on Thursday Feb. 26 (from 6-9am) and my friend and employee Deb, is staging a rally to get the word out. The more faces who show up the more the world knows we care.
Let's remember, it wasn't long ago that Blacks weren't allowed to marry Whites! And now the President has come forward and decided that he better amend the constitution before he's GONE!!!! I am sure some poll told him that he would get more votes!
I know it's early but sometimes things need a special commitment! If you can't make it to this one attend another one somewhere, but do get involved!! PS NBC Tower is at 454 Columbus, Chicago
<
From my pal Kaffy:
http://www.aclu.org/LesbianGayRights/LesbianGayRights.cfm?ID=9977&c=101
It's incredibly easy and fast. Two clicks, a ZIP code, and an address. One note: the ACLU has written the fax, but it IS modifiable by the sender, should anyone want to emphasize the fact that Constitutional amendments aren't for the purposes this one claims to be for.
If this issue is important to you, please act.>
<

100 things
Info meme #1
Typelogic says I'm an INFP.
Check my weekly astrological groove here.
Give it to me, baby.
Where my peeps at!?? Go here and get your name on the map.
Pssst ... My birthday's Feb. 3, and I want this, and this, and this ...
The Make-Believe Oral Cancer Foundation (M-BOCF) is now accepting donations on my behalf. Won't you please help those of us who jump to hideous conclusions regarding our oral health and help me get a root canal or two!??:
What Wouldn't Jesus Do

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I think I may have done this once ...
Evidence that I can still get made out with in a bar
Day 1: NWI Pop quiz, by Mer
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The shit writes itself sometimes
Completely flew under the radar
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Sounds like a fun time at the Blue Chip.
If they had been thinking, they should have given all of the reporters free buffet meals instead of the continental breakfast.
I still don't know who the guy is -- that's the problem with having 6 million channels on the dish. I always get stuck on some nature show or some movie from the 1990s.