Lawrence Pitts is my hero.
He writes columns about the necessary integrity of journalists. He's not shy about pointing out that bloggers, post-ers, tweeters (twits) and other random people who see themselves as journalists are just random people who erroneously see themselves as journalists.
I've said it before, but it bears repeating. Journalism is a craft more than a profession. It may even be a calling. It's not a hobby. It's not something you do in your spare time. And it's not something you do without even a nod to ethics.
Thou shalt not ambush. Thou shalt not lie. Thous shalt not impersonate someone. These are basic rules no real journalist would ever think of violating. The denizens of the blogosphere don't seem to think at all.
17 March 2011
04 March 2011
Students?
So the City University of New York and its Community College are inundated with students who need remedial help.
NYC isn't alone in this problem. A shocking (at least to those of us who learned something in high school) number of young people who graduate high school don't seem to have high school skills. Some of them barely have elementary school skills.
I'm sure there are myriad culprits, including social promotion, overcrowded classes, language barriers, lack of motivation, learning disabilities. . .But the point is not everyone SHOULD go to college. Who's telling these kids they should be in college.
Why are they even walking through the door.
In high school, there used to be college prep, business and general courses. Kids who weren't going to college took classes that would help them get jobs. Granted there are fewer jobs now that don't require a college education, but still, there are tech schools and apprenticeships and if a kid can't make it in college he or she should take advantage of those. If even half of the kids who don't qualify for college don't actually go, that would save the schools enormous aggravation and lots of money.
As for them not being ready in the first place, that's fodder for another blog.
NYC isn't alone in this problem. A shocking (at least to those of us who learned something in high school) number of young people who graduate high school don't seem to have high school skills. Some of them barely have elementary school skills.
I'm sure there are myriad culprits, including social promotion, overcrowded classes, language barriers, lack of motivation, learning disabilities. . .But the point is not everyone SHOULD go to college. Who's telling these kids they should be in college.
Why are they even walking through the door.
In high school, there used to be college prep, business and general courses. Kids who weren't going to college took classes that would help them get jobs. Granted there are fewer jobs now that don't require a college education, but still, there are tech schools and apprenticeships and if a kid can't make it in college he or she should take advantage of those. If even half of the kids who don't qualify for college don't actually go, that would save the schools enormous aggravation and lots of money.
As for them not being ready in the first place, that's fodder for another blog.
28 February 2011
Profiling
I discovered something fascinating about Facebook.
No, I'm not going to talk about the privacy (or lack thereof) thing, or how Mark Zuckerberg plans on taking over the world -- and probably will.
I'm talking about the "edit profile" pages where it asks for your interests, which is fine, but it keeps asking who you enjoy doing things with -- like I only enjoy playing tennis with one person or horseback riding on one horse??
It even asks who you like to read with. Really? Sure, with a cat on my lap, but you don't exactly read WITH someone. I guess Facebook's creators think if you are on Facebook it's because you just can't stand to be alone.
No, I'm not going to talk about the privacy (or lack thereof) thing, or how Mark Zuckerberg plans on taking over the world -- and probably will.
I'm talking about the "edit profile" pages where it asks for your interests, which is fine, but it keeps asking who you enjoy doing things with -- like I only enjoy playing tennis with one person or horseback riding on one horse??
It even asks who you like to read with. Really? Sure, with a cat on my lap, but you don't exactly read WITH someone. I guess Facebook's creators think if you are on Facebook it's because you just can't stand to be alone.
25 February 2011
Dusting for Prints
I have a garden variety flip-phone cell phone. It has little buttons on which I find it ridiculously hard to send a text message.
Sometimes I watch people with iPhones and other "smart" phones use their touch screens and it really grosses me out.
Those touch screens display, along with "apps" for calculating tips (it's quicker to have a tip cheat sheet next to your credit card), sending stupid photos and, my personal favorite, amusing your cat, smears of grease, dust and good enough fingerprints to get a 12-point match.
I hope those touch-screeners keep the phone close at hand and don't commit any crimes.
Since colds are spread from germs through handshakes, I bet zillions of germs live on those nasty screens.
Plague anyone?
Sometimes I watch people with iPhones and other "smart" phones use their touch screens and it really grosses me out.
Those touch screens display, along with "apps" for calculating tips (it's quicker to have a tip cheat sheet next to your credit card), sending stupid photos and, my personal favorite, amusing your cat, smears of grease, dust and good enough fingerprints to get a 12-point match.
I hope those touch-screeners keep the phone close at hand and don't commit any crimes.
Since colds are spread from germs through handshakes, I bet zillions of germs live on those nasty screens.
Plague anyone?
09 February 2011
Me and Kathie Lee
It's good to have someone you can relate to on TV.
Most people on TV seem very young. Very. Young.
That's why I occasionally catch the last hour of the Today Show. Kathie Lee Gifford is not very young. We are pretty much contemporaries.
It's nice to hear someone admit she gets up in the middle of the night to put on lip gloss. If you don't know why, you are also Very Young.
I also love that she doesn't pretend to like rap "music." That she tells it like it is about kids growing up too fast, about lascivious behavior on TV, about the random silliness that seems to dominate the attention of our nation.
Kathie Lee has always called 'em as she sees 'em, but it's comforting to know a major network is cool with that and with somebody who isn't Very Young.
Most people on TV seem very young. Very. Young.
That's why I occasionally catch the last hour of the Today Show. Kathie Lee Gifford is not very young. We are pretty much contemporaries.
It's nice to hear someone admit she gets up in the middle of the night to put on lip gloss. If you don't know why, you are also Very Young.
I also love that she doesn't pretend to like rap "music." That she tells it like it is about kids growing up too fast, about lascivious behavior on TV, about the random silliness that seems to dominate the attention of our nation.
Kathie Lee has always called 'em as she sees 'em, but it's comforting to know a major network is cool with that and with somebody who isn't Very Young.
08 February 2011
The Hardest Blog to Write
Nero died on Tuesday.
He was a dog, but not just any dog. He was my friend, my traveling companion, my comfort. He was the one my children clung to when they were sad, played with when they were happy.
He was an old dog, nearly 13, which is good for a big dog, more than 60 pounds, but he thought he was a pup, playing in the snow up until a few days before he died. Sure, his back legs would get stiff, he would have been on glucosamine soon. The front leg that he broke in 2006 would pain him at night on occasion, he would lick it as he fell asleep. And he was on a supplement to help with accidental piddling and we knew his kidneys wouldn't hold up forever. But still, he acted young. The tale never stopped and he ran up and down with a silly stuffed animal in his mouth.
He got sick on a Sunday night and Monday the vet said his heart and lungs were strong although he wasn't eating and had an "accident" on the floor of the vet's office to his abject embarrassment. Doc thought he might get through it, but, although he took his medicine willingly that night, the next morning, he just laid down and closed his eyes for the last time.
He was smarter than we were. He knew it was his time. He knew if it wasn't this it would be something else, soon. He was ready and he was at peace. His front paws were crossed like he used to do. His long, long tail, with the happy white tip, was stretched out. He wouldn't have been happy ill and infirm. I just hope I can be like that when the time comes.
Nero was ready for whatever comes next. I like to think it is the Rainbow Bridge. That he is young again, with his 7 siblings, all of whom died earlier than he. That there is a place for them to run and play and wait to be joined by the humans whose lives they filled.
A wise friend told me Nero is still alive in my heart. He is.
When a pet dies, people ask if you will get another. No dog can ever replace Nero any more than a new baby can replace a child that dies. But if someday I see a dog and feel in my heart that Nero is telling me this is right, I will adopt it. I know he will guide me in what I should do.
Nero died this week. My life is richer for having been loved by a good dog.
He was a dog, but not just any dog. He was my friend, my traveling companion, my comfort. He was the one my children clung to when they were sad, played with when they were happy.
He was an old dog, nearly 13, which is good for a big dog, more than 60 pounds, but he thought he was a pup, playing in the snow up until a few days before he died. Sure, his back legs would get stiff, he would have been on glucosamine soon. The front leg that he broke in 2006 would pain him at night on occasion, he would lick it as he fell asleep. And he was on a supplement to help with accidental piddling and we knew his kidneys wouldn't hold up forever. But still, he acted young. The tale never stopped and he ran up and down with a silly stuffed animal in his mouth.
He got sick on a Sunday night and Monday the vet said his heart and lungs were strong although he wasn't eating and had an "accident" on the floor of the vet's office to his abject embarrassment. Doc thought he might get through it, but, although he took his medicine willingly that night, the next morning, he just laid down and closed his eyes for the last time.
He was smarter than we were. He knew it was his time. He knew if it wasn't this it would be something else, soon. He was ready and he was at peace. His front paws were crossed like he used to do. His long, long tail, with the happy white tip, was stretched out. He wouldn't have been happy ill and infirm. I just hope I can be like that when the time comes.
Nero was ready for whatever comes next. I like to think it is the Rainbow Bridge. That he is young again, with his 7 siblings, all of whom died earlier than he. That there is a place for them to run and play and wait to be joined by the humans whose lives they filled.
A wise friend told me Nero is still alive in my heart. He is.
When a pet dies, people ask if you will get another. No dog can ever replace Nero any more than a new baby can replace a child that dies. But if someday I see a dog and feel in my heart that Nero is telling me this is right, I will adopt it. I know he will guide me in what I should do.
Nero died this week. My life is richer for having been loved by a good dog.
04 January 2011
Giving Somebody the Skinny
Is it ever right to tell someone he or she is too skinny?
Ok, the men reading this have just said, "Wha'?" and switched to Mariano Rivera's blog. But the women will continue to read.
I'm not talking about the jealousy thing. As in "you're so skinny," meaning, "I wish I looked like that." I'm talking about when you don't even wish you looked like that. Not, can still button the jeans she embroidered with butterflies skinny, ribs sticking out skinny. Unhealthy skinny.
That we live in a weight-obsessed world is obvious, but we also live in a pc-obsessed world.
It seems to me when someone is damaging their health, something should be said. But how? Especially, how when pc rules.
Do you say, "didn't I see you in a POW photo?" Do you say "is there a food shortage on your side of the Delaware?"
Or do you leave health magazines lying around? Clip articles about the dangers of anorexia and stick them on the fridge? Rent one of those movies about famous anorexics? I don't have an answer. Maybe show them this blog?
Ok, the men reading this have just said, "Wha'?" and switched to Mariano Rivera's blog. But the women will continue to read.
I'm not talking about the jealousy thing. As in "you're so skinny," meaning, "I wish I looked like that." I'm talking about when you don't even wish you looked like that. Not, can still button the jeans she embroidered with butterflies skinny, ribs sticking out skinny. Unhealthy skinny.
That we live in a weight-obsessed world is obvious, but we also live in a pc-obsessed world.
It seems to me when someone is damaging their health, something should be said. But how? Especially, how when pc rules.
Do you say, "didn't I see you in a POW photo?" Do you say "is there a food shortage on your side of the Delaware?"
Or do you leave health magazines lying around? Clip articles about the dangers of anorexia and stick them on the fridge? Rent one of those movies about famous anorexics? I don't have an answer. Maybe show them this blog?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)