A Sad Ending

I'm sure that veteran White House correspondent Helen Thomas never dreamed she'd go out this way.

Over the years, Helen was a journalistic role model and a favorite person. She was characteristically feisty in her watchdog role, no matter which party was in power. She had a great sense of humor and was never afraid to skewer her own importance. An NPR special about how she broke down barriers in the early years of female reporters was an inspiration.


More than a decade ago, I saw her lecture at the Pasadena Civic Auditorium. About one-third of the way into her talk, she began rustling papers at the podium, then shuffling them around fiercely. A few moments later, as her speech turned disjointed and a little odd, I realized she had mixed up her pages and was reading them out of order.

Ever the pro, she soldiered on, never letting on that she was flustered. And the speech, full of funny anecdotes and interesting memories, worked even though it was a little jumbled up.

I always say that I'll keep on writing and working as long as I'm able to put fingers to keyboard. But Helen's situation makes me wonder if that's a good idea. I think many people get to a certain age and they feel they've earned the right to say whatever comes to mind, politically incorrect or not.

That bluntness got the better of Helen Thomas, finally, and I'm sorry for it. I hope some friends give her the retirement party she deserves.

Ironic, Ain't It?

The word irony - nay, the concept itself - must be one of the most misunderstood and misused in the English language.

I was watching cable news the night of the recent NYC bomb attempt, and the breathless reporter-on-scene kept going on about how "ironic" it was to see normally bustling Times Square silent and empty on a Saturday night.

No.

That sight may well have been eerie, unsettling and improbable. But it was not ironic.

You want irony? Every so often I interview someone whose whole schtick is the importance of listening in business and in life.

And he's going on about it, and going on and on and on. So much fast and furious verbiage is spilling out of my telephone receiver, in fact, that I have a hard time politely breaking in for a question or clarification. I find myself having to rudely speak over this kind of person, finally, to get a word in edgewise or redirect the conversation.

As important as my source claims it is to listen to others, he's definitely not listening to me. (And yes, there usually tends to be a "he" involved.) In fact, by the end of the interview, I'm usually feeling distinctly un-listened-to.

Now that's ironic. Not to mention damned obnoxious.

What ironies have you experienced lately?

Misnomer

In honor of Words Matter Week, a holiday that is celebrated annually the first full week in March, the National Association of Independent Writers and Editors (NAIWE) is hosting a Blog Challenge with a specific daily topic Monday through Friday.

I'm a day late (yes, and a dollar short!) but I thought I'd comment on yesterday's topic:

Communication breaks down when words are misused. What is the funniest, most interesting, or worst break-down you’ve ever observed?

I was struggling through my first year as a reporter at a small newspaper in Orange County, Ca. I couldn't believe how much I was expected to know and hadn't been taught in journalism school.

I worked at an old-fashioned afternoon paper, which are all but extinct these days, with early morning deadlines. I would literally break into a cold sweat just driving to work, anticipating that deadline pressure.

As the low man on the totem pole, I routinely got the klunker story assignments. That meant on Armistice Day, I was sent to the local VFW for a World War I reunion.

It might have been an inspiring, interesting event. Except for the fact that all the veterans were wheelchair-bound, hard-of-hearing and senile. Their wives poked, prodded and shouted the old-timers through the ceremony in the most demeaning way imaginable.

If I'd been more experienced, I would have known how to handle the assignment gracefully. Instead, I gritted my teeth and tried to get out of there as quickly as possible.

At the reception after the ceremony, I introduced myself as Karen Klein and explained that I needed to do some interviews with the veterans. But somehow, my name seemed difficult to grasp.

I shouted it multiple times, until someone at a table repeated a garbled version. Like a game of "telephone," grotesque versions of my name ricocheted around the room.

Finally, one of the women seemed to understand. "Clara Pine! This is Clara Pine. She's a reporter!" she announced.

Trying to start all over was beyond me. So for the rest of the afternoon, I was intrepid girl reporter Clara Pine.

Not my best journalism moment, but I survived. And my colleagues got quite a chuckle out of it when I got back to the newsroom.

What's a Writer Worth?

Jim Rainey's "On the Media" column in today's L.A. Times features a gloomy outlook for freelance writers.

He accurately nails the twin dilemmas of shrinking newspapers/magazines and websites that recruit professionals - Chamber of Commerce types, think tank pundits and professors - as free columnists, spurning the tradition of paying journalists for their talents.

Back in November, the BusinessWeek SmallBiz page featured a column decrying the freelance economy in general. Not sure I agree with his conclusions, but it's an interesting debate.

Having been happily self-employed for two decades, I hope I never have to return to employer-based work. But the outlook for writers who expect a living wage seems to be dimming.

Championing Experience

Last time, I wrote about Choire Sicha's New York Times op-ed from last week.

That piece was published just below another column that caught my eye. This one was about the downfall of Gourmet magazine.

The author, Christopher Kimball, is the editor of Cook's Illustrated. But he takes no delight in the closing of his competitor.

In fact, he laments the fading of the "old-media" tradition of writers gaining experience, spending years covering an industry or topic and learning to write and report with excellence:

The shuttering of Gourmet reminds us that in a click-or-die advertising marketplace, one ruled by a million instant pundits, where an anonymous Twitter comment might be seen to pack more resonance and useful content than an article that reflects a lifetime of experience, experts are not created from the top down but from the bottom up.

While I've seen many people - bloggers, mostly - celebrating this coronation of the ordinary, Kimball's not so complimentary:

The world needs fewer opinions and more thoughtful expertise - the kind that comes from real experience, the hard won blood-on-the-floor kind.

I happen to agree with him, probably unsurprisingly, since I've got a few years' experience in journalism myself. But how do those of us who do have professional credentials and expertise make sure we can still make a living at it? Here's Kimball's prescription:

To survive, those of us who believe that inexperience rarely leads to wisdom need to swim against the tide, better define our brands, prove our worth, ask to be paid for what we do, and refuse to climb aboard this ship of fools, the one where everyone has an equal voice.

It may not be popular, but I agree with Kimball. And I especially like the part about asking to be paid for what we do.

Too many people think that work done online doesn't really "count" as work. Those of us who are professionals really cannot afford to accept that idea.