So the Great Debate has come and gone, and as I could have told you earlier that day, it was flagged by many members of the media as a crazy fest between two candidates grabbing for power via personal attacks as much as policy. Crazy Fest? That would have been how the Chicago Tribune travel section hawked via their headline when I put them even further up the charts via my 25-column-inch piece on the Hudson Hot Air Affair, and drew the ire of the locals a bit because it was portrayed that way so many times, at the start because of the way they billed it themselves.
Anyway, I’m going to let you in on one of the hidden ways the media works on deadline, based on those work-your-asses-off small dailies I slaved for at the start of my career. You wrote the sample headline and lead for the County Board meeting the night before they actually met, assuming you already knew how the key item’s vote would take place the next morning. And I doubt that the overworked reporter would have spoken to a large number of people to frame their advance prose, just take a guess from background seen in committee. So you would go to the gathering, which was typically a bunch of old available-in-the-morning-retired geezers, (and not Geezer Butler from Sabbath), voting on something like a bunch of new kids equipment at the local park. Yawn, and predictable, and not finished soon because of the obligatory break for lunch. So at that point, and maybe before, the local scribe would hustle on down to the office to finish and revise what had actually now been verified — and you’ve got 15 minutes to wrap up your story, with an editor occasionally standing behind you to push you even (recklessly?) faster. And let the copy editor fix the typos on the fly. County Boards even more than other local government forms are notoriously boring.
But what if they did something not foreseen like vetoing the two-laned slide for the kiddies? Only one lane needed, filibustered The Conservative Masters Of The Coin. Oh my God, and I thought my lead as was about the going against party lines, and the mayor’s twins going on the first ride down the slide in front of the cameras. Cripes, no photo opp, and how can I fix my story at beyond light speed? The Printer Master awaits!!
That’s what I first thought of about the headlines after Cage Match 1 the other night. It was basically the same headline I’ve seen since the invention of the typewriter, I surmised. But maybe more too this … After all Trump is as inflamatory as Attila the Hun, but the Democrats prize themselves on greater civility and tolerance. But aren’t those the things we weighed when dropping the Atom Bomb? Although it seems Trump was the epitome of the anger and the calls for greater debate decorum — keep the babbling overruns to 30 seconds and not 45.
God, until the County Board chimes in with something actually important, maybe we’re stuck with a cat fight over who gets to be First Lady.
In the beginning, there was the question. And the question led to vile responses from The Flesh. Presidential in form that is, and beyond just kissing babies. And then more questions made it clear, less blathering about character and have it more characterized on the issues, and then maybe the answers will go viral on things like the virus. Just ask the County Board and their Slip-Sliding Away, as quoted by the media.
Share the Post:
Related Posts
- Curl when you can, but hey, now with ice (largely) out?? The Winter Olympics is Past, in case you were one to skip it. Both there is so much more to it then just releasing a stone. Which in case you hadn’t been watching does not always go purposely straight. As it can be wisked in a slightly different manner of bend. There is so much more to this sport, but I still have so many questions … This post is a newbie’s (mostly) first reaction.
So, the Winter Olympics is history, as is the Super Bowl in suspense, and March Madness mania is now mundane, so have you gotten enough of … curling as a sport? Don’t just go ho hum. Like my friend Tom sorta was/is. More on that midway. The summer Olympics aren’t coming around for a bit, to fill your taste for sports. But baseball is underway, so there is more than one four-person, four-bagger with four hot dog-one beer, sobriety limits, even for the Brew Crew. (See below). — That aside, the long winter is over, the whole Boundary Waters Area returns to...
- Black Sabbath: With God and Satan at my side. and Trump in the middle, leaning largely left toward Lucifer. Could Trump Ever truly be Jesus? Or even Pope Leo? As there appears to be one of those deadly sins, envy. First, Trump would last on the cross about as long as an alleged joe biden thought. To last even seconds longer, he’d have to master omnipotence, like he thinks his army’s have. Track record: Look at his omniscience!
Trump vs. Pope Leo? I’ll take God. And even most atheists would agree with the first part. The battle against Trump becomes more universal. Trump as Jesus? This is an even easier call. I’ll take The Christ not The Donald. But wait, Trump said, or at least pictured, I am He? While facing foes he did not fight with while in The Garden, not Madison Square, and not while entertaining lavishly at a gala at Mar-A-Lago. Trump could take a lesson. Or he could read The Good Book more. (But he does seem to know what a Sacred Heart is, or at least how to...
- I filter through the fluoridation fixation. This fickle topic was put to rest locally, debunking myths and defying trump and deflating his agenda, with a recent mandate-making, landslide referendum election result. Think of the theoretical ramifications of neighbor vs. neighbor. Tainted water makes tainted love. But this is not our first go-round with this …
Water, water everywhere, and no fluoride to drink … water, water nowhere, better flood the sink. But hold your horses if not your hose and hold on a minute, they voted it down. At least here in New Richmond last Tuesday. So in the week since, we feel the fallout of Trump and his ilk such as RFK Jr. now falling down in failure. There still is lifegiving, if not lifesaving, fluoride to be found in the fluid that spouts from the municipal water system. The mandate-worthy referendum result was to keep teeth-building fluoride in the city supply, by a...
- Size AA, AAA or DD? All here in Hudson. They are batteries plus and more, buttercup! Or more specifically a (Naturally) Naked Root plant and planter sale, as Hudson Blooms, that could also conjure up other crazy corrolations.
I don’t know what this is, exactly, but I know I want a part of it. There is a Naked Root plant sale at Farrill’s Sunrise Nursery and Garden Center that’s located east of, as in rural, Hudson, away from semi-urban congestion, on two days on each of the next two weekends, including this one according to their sign, rounding out April with extended sale days. That could, it seems to me, correspond with the release — as a knockoff — of the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue. Think just a bit of Knock Weed, or knotweed, barely covering a beauty from...
- A sideways glance? Easter not only prevailed but lingered, and there have been since Sunday many other signs of spring.
As Easter began to close down, like a defender in March Madness for Michigan kicking U-Conn, the signs still could be seen heading out on the highway, like Jesus in and around Emmaus of old. The man-of-right-age as a driver wore a T-shirt on Monday, the next day, that I think was for a metal band, and could have been either a stick figure with slim limbs and thick torso ready for a spear to come and sitting in a chair, or Christ on the cross bent over a bit sideways, like he’d been forced to haul that awful tree too...
- It gets hairy and a hair-raising experience, (stylist exhumed, see that at the end all you Sabbath freaks), when you’re in the cross-hairs, and harken a hare, and keep it all together at Easter. Hair of the dog. Like those Who woof as Timberwolves and are trying to find their way. Got the rug cut, and beard embalmed, so can do the Mex in heart, guac at Easter!
I arrived for my again obligatory very-pre-Easter hair trim, like that of a hare, haha, and discovered there were a full seven stylists fully at work, not the usual three, (note the numerical symbolism on this holiday), as all hands were on board. The stylist I was lucky enough to have, post-St. Patrick’s Day, see more on that later, was a beauty with well-coiffed medium length blonde locks herself, and she said they are closing up shop early. (I don’t know if that meant her shift or the store as a whole.) But upon arrival, I was No. 10 on...