(Oh, and contrary to popular belief, I do not “feel fine.” Thought I’d let you know.)
With the economy continuing to crumble, it seemed only a matter of time before the news industry – already suffering as a result of a changing environment and the move of information to the Internet – was further damaged. And on Tuesday, that harsh blow came via the announcement that the Chicago-based Tribune Co., which owns several papers including the Chicago Tribune and Los Angeles Times, filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection.
I suppose looking at this news from an outsider’s perspective, it might be a bit shocking to see such a titan in the news industry fall to this obvious low. However, from the inside, it was, unfortunately, to be expected. It was simply a matter of time and who it would affect.
And although the reason this occurred to the Tribune Co. was, as the article’s writer put it, the “piling (of) too much debt on a company facing declining revenue,” a decrease in sales and advertising is happening to all newspapers across the country, including the publication I work at and its sister papers.
With the Internet came the relocation of news to the Web, and thus, the relocation of advertisements as well. Despite this, newspapers forged on with a hampered revenue stream – because, let’s face it folks, newspapers definitely don’t make their dollars from actual sales or subscriptions. And then the slumping economy strikes and businesses lack the faith they once had in newspapers actually helping them generate sales because the tangible object is reaching fewer people as single copy and subscription sales decrease since a newspaper isn’t a “necessity” when the paycheck gets slashed (also a result of the economy). The businesses choose to not place their ads, the newspaper loses more money, and then, within a matter of time, yet another publication disappears from the shelves.
It’s a rather sad cycle, and I’m hoping the Tribune Co. isn’t forced into the cutbacks we in the news industry have already seen – most notably in the Charlotte region at the Charlotte Observer, whose workforce was considerably parred back several months ago.
The company I work for has already sliced through the news departments of other newspapers, and it seems only logical to assume it’ll be hitting closer and closer to home in the months or years to come. Is my small, Mooresville-based newspaper in jeopardy? I’m hoping not, as we are a community paper. But the bigger publications, they’ll see the ax without notice, and then my dreams of attempting to ever find a position elsewhere in the news industry become futile as I face droves of individuals vying for the same jobs.
It’s a vicious cycle, and while I’d solely like to blame the economy, the lack of appeal the newspaper holds – an appeal that only decades ago was through the roof – is also at fault.
I suppose it’s just another day for the news girl who has big dreams and sees them crumbling before her feet.
I used to think I had a New Year’s Eve curse. I mean, when you spend several Dec. 31sts in a God-awful miserable mood – because you ended up with a stomach virus (1998), or because your boyfriend-at-the-time forced you to attend a party you didn’t want to go to (2002), or because you got a speeding ticket that day (2005), or hell, because your “best” friend “forgot” to pick you up and thus you were stuck home alone on NYE (2006) – you can’t help but begin to wonder if the New Year’s baby is pissing in your Fruit Loops just before bidding adieu to the previous 365 days.
And while I doubt that particular curse has broken, I’m starting to question my luck on Thanksgiving because, despite my best efforts to avoid tails-up pennies and black cats, I’ve had a fairly lousy-ish Turkey Day for a few years now… As you’ll see, one of the three was somewhat my own fault, but the other two were clearly out of my control. Anyway, onto my not-so-great tales.
– Thanksgiving 2006: The genius that I am decided one week before the singular holiday ALL ABOUT EATING to get her tongue pierced. Yep, I did it the Thursday before Thanksgiving and one week later – in spite of all the ice and soft foods I consumed for six days – my tongue was still swollen, making it quite difficult to consume anything but mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce. I somehow managed, but man, it was hell!
– Thanksgiving 2007: This is where the shit hitteth the fan. My entire family (mom, stepdad, brother, grandparents, aunt, uncle, two kids) planned to come to MoTown to visit for Turkey Day. They had rented a house out on the lake, I purchased a 13-pound turkey for the feast and other non-transportable foods, and I had an entire five days off from both of my jobs. And then, on the Tuesday beforehand, my step-father was electrocuted. He works in the sign business and was fixing a sign in Pennsylvania. The business had their switches mislabeled so a wire he thought the power was off to was actually active and when he cut into it, he was shocked throughout his body. Another guy leaped at him and knocked him off the wire, but my stepdad’s hip broke in two places, rendering it impossible for him and the rest of my family to visit. Not only was it tough spending my first holiday without any of my family, but I was also constantly worrying about my stepdad’s condition – he needed surgery where they had to rebuild his hip (did I mention he was only 42 years old at the time?) and was in the hopsital a few weeks with a lot of rehabilitation after. For several days, it was unclear if he’d really be okay and able to walk again, and my mother kept begging me not to drive the nine hours home (which I didn’t until two weeks later) to sit with them at the hospital. It was a crappy, crappy holiday…
– Thanksgiving 2008: After working 32 hours Monday through Wednesday to have Black Friday free from the newspaper (still had to work my restaurant job in the evening hours), I had a pretty sore throat for most of Thanksgiving Eve. I assumed it would go away, until I repeatedly woke up in the night wavering between freezing to death and dying of a heat stroke. The fever, cough, runny nose, etc. set in Thanksgiving morning making it yet another not-so-great holiday despite the best efforts of my boyfriend and his family to change the tone.
And here I am, still sick, completely under the assumption that there’s a black cloud looming over my Turkey Day … and damn it, I really enjoy the Thanksgiving foods! I mean, turkey and stuffing and pie, who wouldn’t enjoy that? Why, oh why, must my day be overshadowed each year with something else?
I’m already keeping my fingers crossed that next year’s festivities will bring me nothing but joy. Until then, I’m thinking of changing my favorite holidays to Valentine’s Day and Halloween. While most people mutter about how crappy theirs are, I haven’t had a bad one in … well, as long as I can remember ($10 says I just jinxed myself).
Although the fury of Election Day has come and gone, Obama’s win isn’t the only thing making headlines nearly one week later; California’s Proposition 8, which unfortunately passed with 52 percent of the vote, remains a fairly dominent topic.
And despite my last post noting my assumed removal from the political scene, I naturally feel the need to comment about this obvious display of inequality that changed the recently granted gay marriage rights of the West Coast.
Taking a gander at most newspapers and magazines, Prop 8 received national attention as a ballot question and, following the presidential race, touted the highest financial expenditures, approximately $73.4 million, from both sides – those for the proposition, which would ban gay marriage, and those fighting against the statute and the limitations it would impose upon a state that only several months ago legally approved of same-sex marriages.
As someone who, quite unfortunately, is a North Carolina resident and thus, had little say in helping to decide Prop 8, I could only cross my fingers – and toes, legs, arms and even my eyeballs – hoping that Californians would retain their equality, retain that sense of comfort and happiness in knowing sexuality no longer dictates which rights they are entitled to. And despite refreshing my browser, set to CNN.com, about a million times on Nov. 6, praying for the judgment to fall against the proposition, it became clear later that day that the tides had sadly turned on the other side of the country … and I was one of many, many people who couldn’t help but deeply sigh at that decision.
I can easily sit here and spout the same opinions I held last time I wrote about gay marriage – check out One ticket to hell, please – but instead, let’s take a look at some of the information that has spewed from this ill-fated decision…
— In a Nov. 6 Time Magazine article by John Cloud, “Why Gay Marriage Was Defeated in California,” the writer takes a look at why the proposition passed despite more money – nearly twice as much – and more visible support against it, including celebrities. And while he presents a viable argument explaining this reasoning, one singular point struck me as shocking:
“Gays came back in some polls, but they couldn’t pull out a win. Part of the reason is that Obama inspired unprecedented numbers of African Americans to vote. Polls show that black voters are more likely to attend church than whites and less likely to be comfortable with equality for gay people. According to CNN, African Americans voted against marriage equality by a wide margin, 69% to 31%.” – Cloud
And while I undoubtedly believe this isn’t the case across the country – or perhaps I’d just prefer to hope it isn’t – I am simply alarmed at those percentages. African Americans, who only several decades ago fought for their own equality, truly voted against equality for others? I saw this article, this segment, and felt deeply saddened by it. I would like to say I find it hard to believe that individuals whose ancestors were refused a plethora of rights in this country would refuse those same liberties to others, but the numbers don’t lie. To me, it’s nothing but ignorance, and honestly, it’s a bit disgraceful.
— Melissa Etheridge, who has been openly gay for a number of years now, issued her opinions about the monumental decision, via a blog entry at The Daily Beast, in “You Can Forget My Taxes” (a thank you to my friend, Aimee, for this link). She makes some amazing points in her message, which – if you opt to not read the piece in its entirety – boils down to the fact that gay men and women should not have to pay the same amount of taxes due to some of their rights being stripped as a result of Prop 8.
“Anyways, she and I are not allowed the same right under the state constitution as any other citizen. Okay, so I am taking that to mean I do not have to pay my state taxes because I am not a full citizen. I mean that would just be wrong, to make someone pay taxes and not give them the same rights, sounds sort of like that taxation without representation thing from the history books.” – Etheridge
And, in my eyes, she creates a very strong argument. If, as a society, we are going to tell people they are, indeed, “second-class citizens,” why should they have to pay the same amount of state and federal taxes if they are not allowed the exact same rights as everyone else? Simply put, we shouldn’t. It’s unfair. It is unjust of us, as a country, to tell people they can have “most” freedoms, but not all, and yet should fork over the same percentage of income as those who are granted every liberty afforded to straight men and women. Yes, I grew up in a household where I was repeatedly told that “life isn’t fair,” but I’ve never been one to accept that … and clearly, neither will Etheridge and many others, both straight and gay, across this nation.
— A coworker brought an editorial cartoon from Slate magazine’s Web site to my attention today, and I think it quite adequately depicts how that 52 percent of California voters see gay marriage rights:
It’s sad to realize how accurate this image is, especially in light of the approval of Prop 8. It’s also interesting to look at it and know how little we’ve truly progressed in the last 50 years. In 1958 – not as long ago as many of us would like to think – the same image could have displayed “whites” on the left and “blacks” on the right, and been just as truthful as this portrayal.
As a country, we like to think we have far advanced past those days of racism and inquality. These examples are just a few of the many that have emerged following the passing of Prop 8 last week, and I’m sure more will come as protests and vigils continue throughout California in the hopes of turning over this ballot question in 2010. Until then, I’ll keep my fingers and every other body part crossed that with Barack Obama in office – a man who proved America can, sometimes, look past differences and elect a black man as president – not only will California and other states, such as Arizona and Florida which also banned gay marriage this election, change their views on these unions, but the country as a whole can move forward, in the direction of complete equality for all citizens.
Folks, this isn’t change we can openly refuse … it’s the kind of change we really need, and I’m confident we’ll all one day find here in the United States.
Along with the trends of bellbottoms, long straight hair and GoGo boots, the banned books of yesteryear have returned to shelves – sitting next to other “controversial” modern tales – and parents have, yet again, taken their concerns to their local school board.
In Morganton, NC – approximately one hour from where I live – a group of parents approached the Burke County Board of Education to express their troubles with books such as Kite Runner, Beloved and (I’m sure you saw this one coming) Catcher in the Rye, which have made their way into the hands of high schoolers unbeknownst to the parental units; individuals who, for religious and moral reasons, vehemently oppose this “contentious” literature.
*Note: For the full context of this story, click here and read an article out of Morganton, but posted to the Mooresville Tribune’s Web site.
With a myriad of complaints, including “such literature will warp the morals of our children” and “why are we subjecting our children to this kind of material without parental oversight,” the parents claimed reading these particular fiction selections would morally corrupt their children. And as parents, they insisted they ought to be informed about which books their kids were reading prior to putting the novel into a teenager’s hands.
Personally, I believe if parents had a voice in what their children read at school, many kids would suffer as a result. I’m fairly certain I would have, and I would lack the appreciation for literature I currently hold.
Beloved is probably one of the best works of fiction I have ever read and without its presence on my (high school) senior year reading list, it’s highly unlikely I ever would have picked it up. Those years of secondary education are pivotal for teenagers, and especially important for opening up avenues that would have otherwise remained unexplored.
Without a creative writing class, a great poet may have never surfaced. Without required chemistry classes, someone who could one day cure a disease might not have discovered a passion. And without required reading that may skim the surface of what, I’m sorry to say, is the real world – and yes, that includes “rectal bleeding” and rape scenes as found in The Kite Runner – another amazing writer or English professor may never arise.
Not only do these books depict the world, a reality that may be morally corrupt but is at the very least accurate, but they provide something different than “happily ever after” to students. This kind of literature, this kind of controversy, creates a better student. It makes that teenager think; it causes him or her to wonder and develop, outside of their parents’ jurisdiction, personal morals and ethics. Simply put, it fosters analytical thinking that may otherwise remain dormant.
And when I read that these adults want to keep their children from books … BOOKS … I cannot help but ask myself how much else these students have been shielded from in an attempt to be “protected” from the cruelty of society. Are these the same parents banning together in protest of violent video games, rated R movies and sex on 8 p.m. television? Or are they simply fighting the school district because it’s the only battle they could win?
I’m proud of the Burke County Board of Education for outright telling these parents that books will not be banned in their district; that is how it should be. And, at the same time, it is also admirable that they are willing to not just hear the parents’ concerns, but find a way to address them properly – such as notification of reading materials.
However, I cannot help but find it somewhat bothersome that parents would want to shelter their children in this manner – and unfortunately, I can’t help but wonder if these parents have even read the books they find so deplorable in the first place (my money says they haven’t).
With the number of kids foregoing things like reading/playing outside/sports for video games, shouldn’t parents simply be happy their kids are picking up a book instead? I guess for these parents, that just isn’t enough.
I know that when the day comes – MANY, MANY years from now – I will never, ever tell my children they cannot read a piece of “controversial” literature. Hell, I just might become the most hated mom on the block for insisting my children expose themselves to the worlds of Holden Caulfield, Sethe and Amir. I, for one, think my kids would be the better for doing so, as opposed to morally corrupt.
Filed under: Adventures in "Motherhood", Argh, Foodage, I am getting old...
When I was a kid, dreaming of little more than becoming a lawyer married to at least one of the two Jonathans – Taylor Thomas (oh ya, JTT was IT back then) or Brandis, who is clearly too dead to be wed at the moment – I never fondly looked into a future filled with chores, responsibilities and, my least favorite task, grocery shopping.
I have no idea why something so simple, so completely devoid of any brain power, would be so fervently avoided on my part. But it regularly is until something “drastic” happens, i.e. the dog has zero lamb pellets left to munch on for her daily meals or I’m down to the last three squares of toilet paper, knowing I’ll at least have to use the bathroom thrice more before venturing out the following day.
I tend to approach the task of grocery shopping with disdain on a semi-regular basis. If you had asked me to venture to the nearest mall (30 minutes away) and spend six hours perusing the stores, I’d do so with a grin on my face and credit cards in hand. But driving a measly five minutes/two miles to Food Lion causes me to grab my cell phone and call my grandmother who, I know, will talk for at least 20 minutes and, with any luck, keep me from dying from boredom as I toss food items into my cart.
You would think that shopping for necessities wouldn’t be so aggravating on my part, but the tedious undertaking brings me nothing but stress…
“Did I remember everything on my list (’cause oh ya, I make one just to destress myself as much as possible)?” “Do I really need the white bread and the cinnamon raisin bread?” “Holy crap, this cart is so full!” “Is there enough cash in my bank account or should I use a credit card?” “What kind of poor ass girl am I going to look like whipping out the Capital One?” “Great, I forgot deodorant (when I’m inevitably on the other side of the store).”
It’s an unending barrage of questions in my head, all as I attempt to add up the dollars I’ll be spending, which is nearly always more than I wanted to shell out for one grocery store visit. And then, as I step out the door with my 27 bags of groceries – half of which I may or may not touch, but felt that I “needed” – buyer’s remorse sets in when I realize what I could’ve gotten for my $143 that would’ve actually made me happy.
Yes, clearly I need to eat. It’s somewhat of a necessity for this whole living/breathing thing. But, jeez, must it be so damn stressful? Most days, I’d rather leave my cabinets as barren as the Mohave and travel to my nearest McD’s for a burger and fries. Perhaps I’m lazy, perhaps I’d simply like to avoid the hour-long hassle of dragging my cart up and down the aisles, twice, each. And don’t even get me started on Wal-Mart. Oh my … let’s avoid that topic as it pertains to this blog all together.
And what’s most unfortunate is that after glancing at nearly every purchasable object at my local grocer, I have to carry those 27 bags of groceries into my home, alone. At 5’1″, making it into the house – which means through the front door, the middle room and into the kitchen at the back of my place – in only one trip is often impossible … and keeping my dog away from the 13 bags I piled on my arms for journey #1 into Casa de Skutnick is nearly the same.
After at least 10 minutes of putting the items in their proper places in my cabinets/refrigerator/freezer/stove (I store bread there, and bagels, ’tis true), I don’t want to eat because I’ll then use something I’ll just have to purchase again soon. So I stare at my newly-bought food, attempting not to disrupt it – thus venturing out for Chinese or Taco Bell – just to keep from having to grocery shop again.
It’s a never-ending cycle, as far as I’m concerned. And since my dog has eaten only once in the last two days, me scraping every last morsel from her bag of Puppy Chow, it’s off to Food Lion I go following work today. Maybe I’ll try to score some overtime to avoid the task… Wish me luck!
A MinD in MoTown 